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NO OTHER WAY 


By GORDON HOLMES 


A 

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 
THE ARNCLIFFE PUZZLE 
THE LATE TENANT 
BY FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES 
THE DE BERCY AFFAIR 
THE HOUSE OF SILENCE 
NO OTHER WAY 


NO OTHER WAY 


BY 


GORDON HOLMES f ■ ■ ■ 

Author of 


“A Mysterious Disappearance,” “The House of Silence,” Etc. 






New York 

Edward J. Clode 

Publisher 




I 

Copyright, 1912, by 
EDWARD J. CLODE 

Entered at Stationers’ Hall 


£ Cl. A 3 2 0 1 3 2 

4% > 


\J 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Open Door 1 

II. Showing How the Door Was Closed 18 

III. Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 

and Admits It 35 

IV. Suicide — or Murder? . . .55 

V. Showing how Mrs. Delamar Received 

a Shock 72 

VI. The Chief Takes a Hand in the 

Game 91 

VII. Wherein Steingall Is Staggered . 108 

VIII. Close Quarters 126 

IX. Husband and Wife . . . .144 

X. A Turn of the Screw — and Two 

Turns of the Wheel . . . 163 

XI. An Official Conspiracy . . .179 

XII. Showing How the Net Was Spread 198 

XIII. Waverton Shows Fight . . .216 

XIV. Mrs. Delamar’s Ordeal . . . 233 

XV. A Reshuffling of the Pack . . 252 

XVI. The Only Way 271 

XVII. Wherein the “Waverton Case” 

Collapses 291 



NO OTHER WAY 



NO OTHER WAY 


CHAPTER I 


THE OPEN DOOR 


“A PPLY for an adjournment? Draw back now? 
after all the horror and ignominy of the last 
year? Why should I?” 

The woman’s pale features flushed with indigna- 
tion, and the brown tint in her eyes kindled into 
flame. Mr. Mowlem, of Mowlem & Wrench, bent 
his gray head again over a newspaper lying open on 
his office table. 

“ In the circumstances, it seems rather hard,” he 
murmured, half in plea, half in apology. Indeed, at 
that moment he was thinking, “ Why couldn’t the 
idiot have been content — at any rate, discreet? No 
man in New York to-day has a prettier wife.” 

“Hard!” Mrs. Waverton fastened on the word 
almost fiercely. Young as she was, and dainty in 
figure and costume as a bit of rare Chelsea, she had 
suffered so much at the hands of her scapegrace hus- 
band that endurance was at an end. “ You say it is 
hard that I should secure my freedom because this 
cruel man has met with an accident. If you and I 
were living in an earlier age, we should admit rather 
1 


No Other Way 

that he had been punished by Providence for some of 
the wrong and injustice he has inflicted on others. 
What of my long-drawn-out torture, the sneers, the 
shrugs, the malicious whisperings of society? Do 
you know what people are saying? 4 Oh, Curly Wa- 
verton isn’t half bad — shouldn’t wonder if that little 
New England Puritan of a wife of his doesn’t make 
his life miserable.’ I imagine you keep aloof from 
the shallow people in our set, Mr. Mowlem ; but they 
form some part of my world, and that is how they 
talk. 4 Poor Curly ! a real good fellow if you take 
him the right way.’ Never a word for the weep- 
ing, outraged wife! Never a thought for the sweet 
little girl who, some day in years to come, will wring 
my heart by asking why she has never seen her father! 
Oh, the bitterness and wickedness of it all! And 
now, because his mischievous life is checked by a mis- 
hap, probably the direct outcome of his evil ways, the 
pity goes only to the man and is withheld from the 
woman ! ” 

Tears glistened in the brown eyes, and the in- 
censed voice broke. 

Mowlem adjusted his spectacles, sat back in his 
chair, and lifted both hands in mild protest against 
the storm he had raised so unwittingly. 44 My dear 
Mrs. Waverton — ” he began. 

44 1 am not your dear Mrs. Waverton, or you 
would never even hint at a withdrawal of my suit! 
It is only common fairness that I should demand 
justification in the eyes of the world! ” 


The Open Door 

“ Believe me, I meant nothing of the sort. I — 
er — suggested a postponement. The courts are al- 
ways open to a reasonable laxity in procedure when 
one of the parties to a suit can be shown to be 
prevented by illness or serious injury from putting in 
an appearance.” 

“But I have been given to understand that this 
case would be undefended.” 

“ True — quite true, my dear lady. There is, there 
can be, no defense. Unhappily, and I use the word 
solely in its application to you, Mr. Waverton seems 
to have welcomed rather than evaded the petition. 
His lawyers have accepted service, and there the mat- 
ter rests. I assure you I am thinking wholly of your 
interests, and of your position in that very world of 
gossip and slander which cares so little for the rights 
and wrongs of these domestic upheavals. Come, 
now — take a calm view of the facts l Mr. Waverton 
is lying at Palm Beach with a sprained wrist and a 
severe scalp wound, the outcome of an automobile 
smash. His condition will certainly be mentioned in 
court, and in any event it will be referred to by the 
newspapers. It is an unfortunate occurrence at this 
crisis in your affairs; but I should fail in my duty if 
I did not point out that you risk the loss of public 
sympathy, whatever its value may be, by appearing 
against him this week.” 

Doris Waverton sighed. Such outbursts of emo- 
tion as that with which she had momentarily over- 
whelmed the lawyer were not habitual. Usually she 
3 


No Other Way 

was self-contained and reserved, — there was an ele- 
ment of truth in the description, “ a pretty New 
England Puritan,” given her by some of her ac- 
quaintances, — but to-day, when the ordeal for which 
she had nerved herself threatened to be deferred, 
the hidden springs of her being had risen in 
revolt. 

“ What is the alternative?” she asked, after a 
pause. 

“ An application to a Judge to hold over the pro- 
ceedings until some later date — say, October. And — 
there is one other argument. To a man of Claude 
Waverton’s habits, an accident of this kind is likely 
to be more serious than if he lived a regular and 
temperate life. In addition to his other injuries, he 
is suffering from a shock to the system. He may 
die.” 

“ Such men do not die. They live to plague 
others.” 

“We lawyers train ourselves to disregard senti- 
ment in these matters. On general principles, your 
husband is not a good subject to be pitched headlong 
into a dry watercourse.” 

Mrs. Waverton rose and went to the window. She 
looked out over Trinity churchyard, where trees 
and shrubs were expanding their spring buds in the 
beams of a bright sun. 

“ I have not heard the exact details,” said the 
woman at last, and her voice was weary and broken. 
“ What does it say in the newspaper? ” 

4 


The Open Door 

Mr. Mowlem coughed, and readjusted his spec- 
tacles. “ Generally speaking — ” he began. 

“ Forgive me, but I wish to hear the exact text.” 

She spoke over her shoulder, and did not notice 
that the man’s deeply lined, legal face showed some 
hint of perplexity. Evidently, he did not wish to 
peruse the item just as it stood; but he seemed to 
obey his client’s demand instantly. 

“ A Palm Beach correspondent telegraphs under 
date of yesterday,” he read: 

“Mr. Claude G. Waverton, well known in sporting circles 
in the United States and Europe, met with a serious accident 
last night when motoring from Boynton to Palm Beach. 

“ It seems that Mr. Waverton had been spending the even- 
ing at a house near Boynton, an establishment where roulette 
and stud poker are not unknown. His chauffeur happened 
to be ill; so Waverton was alone in the car when he began 
the return journey at midnight, and, as he has the repute of 
being a daring driver, he was urged to take the old coast 
road, which is safer, though somewhat longer, than the new 
road skirting the lakes. He appears, however, to have dis- 
regarded this advice, because his overturned car was found 
at daybreak this morning, close to the railroad track, where 
the lakes road crosses it some five miles from Palm Beach. 
Near the car was lying the dead body of a man, apparently 
some wayfarer who had been run over, while Waverton him- 
self was stretched unconscious in a small canon, some thirty 
feet below a retaining wall. Were it not for a guava tree 
breaking his fall, and becoming entangled with his clothing, 
he would have slipped into a sink-hole, as the descent at this 
point is almost precipitous. 

“Waverton, it is rumored, had won a large sum of money 
at roulette during the evening, and it was assumed at first 
that he had been attacked and robbed. The police, however, 
discovered notes to the value of twenty-five thousand dollars 

5 


No Other Way 

in his pocketbook, and this, it is estimated, would be approxi- 
mately the amount of his winnings. 

“By a singular coincidence, yesterday was Waverton’s 
birthday. He then became thirty-three years old, and he 
backed that number heavily when a Florida millionaire took 
the bank. Curiously enough, 33 turned up nine times in 
thirty-three coups — in one freak run it came three times in 
succession. There was a good deal of excitement in the house 
during this singular run of luck, which took place between 
ten p.m. and ten-forty-five p.m., and Mr. Edgar O. Schwartz, 
the host, was much annoyed because of the high betting be- 
tween Waverton and the banker, both of whom must have 
arranged to play roulette that evening, and came well fixed 
with cash.” 

After another slight cough, and a pause, the law- 
yer went on: 

“The man whose dead body was found near Claude G. 
Waverton’s car has been identified as Charles B. Scott, an 
American tutor in the family of Don Miguel Santander, of 
Rosala, in the Argentine. By a sad fatality, it appears that 
Don Santander and his wife, with their household, had arranged 
to leave Palm Beach for New York to-day, and the tutor 
would have accompanied them. It was his habit to take long 
walks late at night. 

“The Coroner’s theory of the accident is that Waverton 
tried to avoid hitting the pedestrian, whom he would come on 
suddenly in the worst section of an awkward curve, but that 
the automobile either swerved or skidded on some wet leaves. 
The dead man had evidently been driven with fearful force 
against a telegraph pole, as medical examination showed that 
his skull was fractured and his neck broken.” 

The lawyer’s quiet voice dropped, with the man- 
ner of one who had come to the end of a paragraph, 
and Mrs. Waverton turned from the window. 

“ Is that all ? ” she asked. 

“ Practically all.” 


6 


The Open Door 

“ But nothing definite is said there concerning my 
— concerning Claude’s injuries?” 

“ Oh, it gives a few details — those I have already 
told you of.” 

Mr. Mowlem was a precise man. He disliked 
subterfuge, and was noted for his avoidance of the 
lawyer-like inexactitudes known as legal fictions. 
Something in his air caught Doris Waverton’s trou- 
bled glance. And she was unquestionably a bright 
and intelligent creature, — little more than a girl in 
years, but a woman in sad experience. 

“ I think I ought to know all the facts, Mr. Mow- 
lem, before making a decision which may have a 
far-reaching effect in the future,” she said quietly. 

There was no escape for the lawyer. He might 
still have juggled with words; but he realized that 
his client would surely learn the truth before many 
hours had elapsed, and he could not assume the 
onus of actually misleading her. 

He picked up the newspaper again and read : 

“Waverton was taken to Asphodel House, Palm Beach, 
where he was attended by Drs. Bentley and Mercier. He was 
badly shaken and bruised, and had lost a good deal of blood 
from scalp wounds in addition to sustaining a nasty sprain of 
his right wrist; but he has recovered consciousness, and will 
probably regain his buoyant good health. It is stated, how- 
ever, that he is still somewhat confused, and suffering from 
shock, so he can give no clear account of the accident.” 

“ Asphodel House!” said Mrs. Waverton, and the 
lawyer knew at once that the wife who was about to 
yield had become hard as flint. 

7 


No Other Way 


“ Yes.” 

“ That woman, Mrs. Delamar, lives there, does she 
not?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Claude will be nursed carefully, I am sure. 
The suit must proceed, Mr. Mowlem. There cannot 
be any adjournment.” 

“ As you please, Mrs. Waverton.” 

The whole thrilling sequel of tragedy and passion 
rested on that slight foundation. If a zealous news- 
paper correspondent at Palm Beach had omitted to 
state the name of the residence to which the wounded 
man had been conveyed, Claude Waverton’s wife 
would have accepted the lawyer’s advice, and the 
suit of Waverton vs. Waverton would drop out of 
the divorce list — for a time, at any rate. 

As it was, the law took its course. There could 
be only one result. “ Curly ” Waverton had con- 
ducted himself like a scoundrel. Within a year of 
the wedding he had already so ill treated his charm- 
ing bride that she was compelled to take refuge in 
her sister’s house. Time and again had she gone 
back, until her misery could find no sure outlet save 
by the public way of a dissolution of the marriage. 

Doris Waverton announced that, with the sanc- 
tion of the court, in the future she would revert to 
her maiden name. Although a rich woman in her own 
right, she insisted that her daughter’s interests should 
be safeguarded, and with that object Mowlem & 
Wrench exacted the last dollar in the shape of settle- 
8 


The Open Door 

ments and alimony. No difficulties were raised; it 
almost seemed as if the respondent’s lawyers were 
instructed to settle at any price. 

Meanwhile, Claude Waverton had been removed 
from Asphodel House to a secluded hotel at Palm 
Beach. Thence, when able to travel, he was taken 
to a sanatorium in Tennessee. Some three or four 
months later he came to New York, and the day after 
his arrival found him in the office of the family 
lawyers on Wall Street, where certain trust deeds 
and other documents awaited his signature. 

The head of the firm, Mr. Curtis, of Curtis & 
Lamb, received him with the gravely paternal air 
which elderly legal advisers are wont to assume in 
the presence of wealthy prodigals. 

He saw at a glance that Waverton had gone 
through a good deal more than the newspapers had 
stated. He looked older and thinner. The scars 
across his forehead, though healed now, had obviously 
been wounds of size and depth, and he still carried 
his right arm in a sling. The curly brown hair 
w r hich had suggested his familiar nickname was 
sheared off closely, and there were traces of other 
cuts on the top and back of his head. 

But, more noticeable than any .of these minor evils, 
which time would assuage and almost efface, was the 
new expression in Waverton’s eyes and mouth. In 
the old days he was seldom or never absolutely sober, 
and his air of vacuous good humor and thorough 
enjoyment of life had deceived people into crediting 

9 


No Other Way 

him with qualities he either did not possess or could 
conceal most effectually where his wife was con- 
cerned. Now, it was a cold, self-contained man who 
met the lawyer’s polite inquiries as to his convales- 
cence, and he spoke in a straightforward manner 
which Curtis found positively surprising. 

Waverton seemed to become aware of a scrutiniz- 
ing glance. 44 I am a somewhat changed person since 
my accident, Mr. Curtis,” he said. 44 It has left its 
mark on me, as you have seen for yourself, no doubt. 
I mean to look into my affairs, put everything in 
order, and go away for a long rest. Will it matter 
if I sign papers with my left hand ? ” 

44 Not in the least, provided your signature is at- 
tested. But, may I ask — ” 

44 Yes, my right wrist was sprained and dislocated, 
and that is far worse than a break, as everybody 
knows. Can you come with me to my bank? I called 
at the bank this morning, and the teller explained 
that he had seen so little of me in the past that my 
illiterate scrawl needed some explanation. Of course, 
I don’t blame him; but this matter should be put 
right.” 

44 Certainly. I had no idea you were so knocked 
about. I am sorry now, Mr. Waverton, that we 
did not appeal to your wife’s sense of fair play — ” 
44 Great Scott, man! on what plea? ” 

44 The proceedings might have been delayed. 
There is no knowing what might have happened in 
the new conditions.” 


10 


The Open Door 

“ But I wished no obstacles whatever to be im- 
posed. I telegraphed my explicit instructions.” 

“ Of course, of course. I acted on them without 
reserve.” 

“ Has not everything been for the best? I am 
free, and Mrs. Waverton is free, and I gather from 
your last letter that she will receive nearly ten thou- 
sand dollars a year from the trustees. She has 
nothing to grumble at now, surely ? ” 

Curtis was still more puzzled ; but he did not want 
to quarrel with a good client. “ Your wife — ” he 
began. 

Waverton broke in curtly. “ Please remember 
that she has ceased to be my wife.” 

“ Well, then, the former Mrs. Waverton is a very 
charming woman, and it might have been pos- 
sible for both of you to make a fresh start in 
life.” 

“Not a bit of it! No more charming women for 
me! Who succeeds to the property? This divorce 
complicates matters a bit, doesn’t it? ” 

The lawyer lifted his hands in pained astonish- 
ment. “ Obviously, the estate is yours absolutely,” 
he said, “ yours to do with as you will, subject to — 
er — the provision made by the court for Mrs. Waver- 
ton and the child. Your cousin, were he alive, would 
have to be considered, perhaps ; but, since he is dead, 
its disposition rests with you. Yet, a young man like 
you need not be seriously perplexed about your suc- 
cessor. You have had a sufficiently narrow escape 
11 


No Other Way 

on this occasion to warrant immunity from further 
mishap for a long time.” 

“But how about my will?” 

“ As you are aware, the disposition made on your 
marriage created a trust for Mrs. Waverton and her 
children — if any.” 

“ Does that hold good now? ” 

“ Assuredly, until you alter it. Shall I take fresh 
instructions? ” 

“ No.” 

The lawyer dropped the pen he had taken in his 
hand by force of habit. “ You mean that the old 
will is to stand?” he said, genuinely bewildered. 

“ Yes, of course. I may be a scamp ; but I don’t 
intend to rob that infant. The child succeeds to 
everything, I take it, with a life interest for her 
mother ? ” 

“ Exactly. You will not be angry with me if I 
say that you have a closer grasp of affairs now 
than — er — before your accident, Mr. Waverton.” 

“ The actual fact is that my head is in a whirl. 
I forget things. I don’t know my own belongings 
sometimes. I told you I was conscious of a change, 
and, for the most part, it takes that shape, forget- 
fulness. At any rate, I am not bemused with drink, 
and that counts for something. Now, how soon can 
I escape from New York, — a week, a fortnight? ” 

“ I shall use all expedition. By the way, may I 
acquaint Mrs. Waverton’s lawyers with your ex- 
traordinarily generous decision? ” 

12 


The Open Door 


“ Why?” 

“ Candidly, I think she ought to know.” 

“ Again, why? ” 

“ Because — well, I must out with it — people who 
have been divorced have agreed to get married again. 
Such a thing is not unknown.” 

A shadow crossed Waverton’s worn face, in which 
the bronze of open-air life was now merged in the 
pallor of several weeks of close confinement and in- 
action. 

“ If that is the only reason, I wish Mrs. Waverton 
to remain in ignorance of my intention.” 

“ Suppose she thinks of marrying some other 
man?” pressed the lawyer, who was persuaded that 
two lives were being wrecked needlessly. 

We shall deal with that development when it 
arises.” 

So there was nothing more to be said ; but a good 
deal remained to be done, and it was the middle of 
July before Claude Waverton left his house on 64th 
Street, and, accompanied only by his English valet, 
took a train for Narragansett Pier. 

He glanced casually through recent entries in 
the hotel register before signing his own name. The 
hotel did not appear to be crowded, and he found 
that he could have his choice of several suites. He 
selected a sitting-room and bedroom on the first floor 
at the southeast corner, and thereby marked himself 
as one who could not only discriminate but pay; yet 
the clerk seemed to hesitate somewhat when he learned 
13 


No Other Way 

his guest’s name. Nothing was said, however, and 
Waverton went out into the sunshine, leaving his 
man to make the rooms habitable. 

Filled with a sudden longing to renew an old love 
for the clean, cold, steel-gray Atlantic, which differs 
as greatly from the lazy ocean that laps the Florida 
sand dunes as the prairie differs from a trim lawn, he 
made straight for the seafront. The tide was high, 
and a strong swell was breaking against the promen- 
ade; but there were boats out in plenty, and a few 
adventurous persons were bathing. 

He started to walk along the shore, breathing 
in the clean, pure air. A few hundred yards from 
the hotel are great rocks that rise out of the sea, 
which, in a measure, take the place of the pier from 
which the resort got its name. The pier was de- 
stroyed some thirty-odd years ago. 

On the rocks were two women and a Normandy 
nurse, the latter holding in her arms a delightful 
little maid, who was much interested in watching the 
maneuvers of a little sloop that was tacking back and 
forth in lively fashion. 

Something caused one of the women to turn her 
head at the very instant Waverton was passing. 
Her face, already highly colored, owing to the splen- 
did breeze, grew crimson, and she uttered a gasp of 
amazement which brought her companion’s eyes 
quickly round. One of them, it was never known 
which, moved involuntarily, and caught the nurse’s 
arm with her elbow; but all that Waverton 
14 * 


saw 


The Open Boor 

was the outward leap of the child, which fell into 
the sea. 

Now, Claude Waverton might be a wicked man 
and a libertine, but he had the quick eye and sure 
judgment of one who had dwelt far from cities. 
Even w T hile the first wild screams of all three women 
were ringing in his ears, he sped across to the rocks 
and with one moment of poise while he noted the 
whereabouts of the white frock in the depths of 
the churning water, had leaped twenty feet down 
into the sea. 

He was so prompt and fearless in acting that, 
once in the water, he had no further difficulty. Al- 
though practically one-armed, being hampered by 
bandages, he seized the child’s frock in his teeth, 
thrust his left arm through a buoy, and simply 
kicked out with his feet to keep away from the rocks 
until the men in a sloop came to the rescue. 

It was near the hour when all of Narragansett 
turns toward the bathing beach. The screams of the 
women attracted a crowd that seemed to spring from 
nowhere, and it was eager for excitement. After 
dragging Waverton and the child on board, the 
sloop sailed to a nearby landing float. The man 
slipped ashore, carrying the frightened and scream- 
ing but unharmed child in his arms, to be met by a 
cheering crowd that hurried to the float. So many 
hands were stretched out to help him that he de- 
manded with rather a scowl: 

“Where is the child’s mother, or nurse?” 

15 


No Other Way 

A buxom bonne , wearing the coif and cloak of 
her calling, struggled through the throng on the 
beach, and the little one recognized her with a loud 
cry of “ Nana ! ” 

“ Oh, Monsieur Claude, what is it that I should 
say, me ? 55 sobbed the. woman in French, as she re- 
ceived her dripping charge with a reassuring hug. 

Waver ton was so taken aback by her recognition 
that he could not answer ; but he became aware that 
the nurse joined the two women he had seen on the 
pier, and the trio hurried off, though one of them 
walked so unsteadily that she had to be assisted by 
her friend. 

“ Well, did you ever see the like of that? ” said an 
indignant girl in the crowd. 

“ With never a word of thanks to the man who 
saved her child ! ” cried another. 

“ Such people are not fit to be trusted with a 
baby,” declared a third. 

At last, followed by an enthusiastic escort, Wa- 
verton reached the hotel, and was glad to gain its 
sheltering porch. 

The manager met him in the hall. “ What a won- 
derful thing, Mr. Waverton ! ” he said, his eyes 
kindling with enthusiasm. 

“ No one has done anything wonderful,” said 
Waverton tartly. “ Would you mind sending a 
page to show me my rooms ? ” 

“ I’ll come myself, with pleasure. This way. 
Now, boy, quick with that elevator!” 

16 


The Open Door 

As they walked along the upper corridor, Waver- 
ton realized that the hotel manager had become un- 
accountably silent. 

“ Do you know whose child it was that fell into 
the sea ? ” he asked. 

“ Of course I do,” came the surprised answer. 

“ Is the mother staying at this hotel?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Oh, the deuce take it ! Who is she ? ” 

“ Her name is given as Mrs. Elstead.” 

Waverton put his left hand to his head as though 
in an effort to touch some chord of memory stirred 
by the name. 

“ Mrs. Waverton chose to be known by that 
name, sir,” went on the man, with the sympathetic 
voice of one forced by circumstances to be unpleas- 
antly explicit. 

u Mrs. Waverton ! ” and that gasp of amazement 
was convincing. 

“ Yes, sir. Haven’t you realized that you have 
saved the life of your own little girl? That is why 
I said it was wonderful. I have never known such 
a thing — Never! You might have been brought 
here by Providence! Here is your room, sir. Shall 
I send you anything, — a little brandy, or a stiff 
cocktail? You need a stimulant of some kind, Mr. 
Waverton.” 


n 


CHAPTER II 


SHOWING HOW THE DOOR WAS CLOSED 

“ No. No brandy, thank you.” Waverton paused 
in front of the door of his suite with the air of a 
man who was collecting his scattered thoughts. 

44 I suppose the other lady who accompanied Mrs. 
Waverton was her sister, Mrs. Daunt?” he said. 
Then, noticing that the manager was genuinely per- 
plexed, he added, 44 You don’t know, of course, that 
I did not chance to see either of the ladies. I had a 
vague notion that there were two of them, with a 
nurse and a baby, when suddenly the youngster fell 
into the sea. After that there was no time for gaz- 
ing at anybody.” 

44 It was marvelous, sir, marvelous ! A gentleman 
sitting on the balcony was looking directly at you 
through a telescope, and saw the whole thing. It was 
he who called me out and told me of it. Yes, the 
other lady is Mrs. Daunt. They have been here a 
fortnight, and, I think I ought to mention it, their 
rooms are on this floor.” 

Waverton laughed rather pleasantly. His some- 
what hard and severe features changed their ex- 
pression most markedly when he smiled. Then it 
was difficult to believe that he could possibly be the 
18 


Showing How the Door Was Closed 

man depicted in lurid language by that rhetorical 
lawyer, Hector J. Hickory, in his “ opening ” on 
behalf of the petitioner in “ Waverton vs. Wa- 
verton.” 

“ I shall not trouble them long by my presence 
in Narragansett,” he said. “ If the opportunity 
serves, you might give them a hint that I shall be 
off on Monday to some less popular resort. Mean- 
while, I want all meals served in my room. Will you 
kindly have some strong tea sent up now P ” 

He turned the handle and entered the sitting- 
room. The place was in a litter of clothes, linen, and 
shoes; for the valet was unpacking his master’s 
belongings, and thought he had a clear hour at his 
disposal. He was beginning to apologize for the 
disorder of chairs and tables, when his trained eye 
traveled over Waverton’s costume, and a horrified 
glance spoke volumes. 

“ It’s all right, Rice. I have only been in the 
sea. No damage done; though I lost my hat — the 
same one I wore that night at Palm Beach, eh? I 
hope I have seen the last of it. I seem to find trouble 
when I don that particular chapeau.” 

There was a knock at the door, and a page en- 
tered, bearing a green Homburg hat. He began 
explaining that a fisherman had brought it. The 
boy was flustered when Waverton laughed and Rice 
grinned discreetly. 

“ Tell him to take it, with my compliments, and 
here’s a dollar to go with it,” said Waverton. “ Now, 
19 


No Other Way 

Rice, help me off with these wet clothes, and get me a 
fresh rig.” 

44 Shall I give you a good rubdown, sir? ” 

44 Yes, please do ; but go easy. I am still sore at 
the base of my neck and about the lumbar region.” 

Rice was not sure where the lumbar region was; 
but he had been surprised that his skill as a rubber 
was not in demand of late, because Waverton, in 
preaccident days, kept his limbs supple by frequent 
massage. Despite seven years of almost continuous 
residence in the United States, Rice remained incur- 
ably- British in language and manner. 

44 My word, sir ! ” he said, when his deft hands 
were busy with sponge and towel, 44 your illness did 
take it out of you, an’ no mistake ! ” 

44 Why, don’t you think I am as fit as I was ? ” 

44 You must have lost pounds and pounds, sir. 
Your muscles show up a bit better, for all that. I 
shouldn’t be surprised, sir, if you ain’t a better man 
when your arm gets right. Effect of proper diet 
an’ nursing, sir.” 

44 Now, Rice, be candid. It’s the effect of less 
rum, isn’t it? ” 

44 Well, Mr. Claude, if you put it like that — ” 

44 Steady there ! My ribs won’t bear pressing. 
Thanks, I’ll rub my breast myself. Look here, Rice, 
you fellows generally hear all the news below stairs. 
Why didn’t you tell me Mrs. Waverton had gone to 
Narragansett? ” 

44 You don’t mean to say, sir — ” 

20 


Showing How the Door Was Closed 

“ So you didn’t know ? Moreover, she is in this 
very hotel, with Mrs. Daunt — and the baby.” 

64 Miss Kathleen, sir? ” 

44 Yes. I have just fished Miss Kathleen out of 
the Atlantic. She fell in from the end of the 
rocks.” 

The valet did then forget himself, and emitted a 
short, sharp whistle between his teeth. 

44 1 guessed that would make you blow off 
steam,” laughed Waverton. 44 If Mrs. Delamar 
were to show up now I should run out of the hotel, 
call the first cab, and tell the man to drive in a bee- 
line for the next five days.” 

44 1 wish you’d never seen that lady, Mr. Claude,” 
smid Rice, with unusual earnestness. 44 I’ll tell you 
honestly, I don’t like her. When you were brought 
in for dead to Asphodel House she wouldn’t let me 
go near your room — no, not for days. I don’t want 
to speak uncharitable of anybody, but I couldn’t 
help thinkin’ of the money you had won at Mr. 
Schwartz’s place, sir. It was in everybody’s mouth 
next day. A maid showed it to me in the Palm 
Beach newspaper. Never was I so glad of any think 
as when you sent for me an’ said we was off to the 
hotel.” 

44 Do you find a great change in me, Rice? ” 

44 Change, Mr. Claude ? Why, it’s a miracle, that’s 
w’at it is ! ” 

The man was conscious instantly that he had said 
a little too much; but Waverton passed the slip 
21 


No Other Way 

without comment — or, rather, he appeared to mis- 
understand its underlying cause. 

46 1 came rather near eternity that night, Rice,” 
he said quietly. 44 And the few days I was forced 
to remain in bed and live on slops gave me time for 
thought. Mrs. Delamar was not exactly my good 
angel; but she was kind enough while I was ill. 
Anyhow, we don’t want her anywhere near Nar- 
ragansett. No, I’ll not dress for dinner. A blue 
serge, please. I’m going out again, and I don’t 
wish to be mobbed as a hero as I stroll along the 
front. I shall avoid the beach and casino. You 
need not sort out all those things now. We leave 
early on Monday.” 

Rice was taking the wet clothes to be dried, when 
he met Celestine, the nurse, whom he had not set 
eyes on during many months. She hailed him ex- 
citedly, and had sufficient English to recite the 
afternoon’s occurrences. A little later she sent a 
page to bring him out into the corridor, and then 
informed him that Mrs. Waver ton wished to see him. 

Now, Rice admired his former mistress greatly, 
and had always regarded Waverton as the biggest 
fool in Christendom in respect to his treatment of a 
very attractive wife. Indeed, Rice himself was on 
the lookout for another situation at the time of the 
accident in Florida, and he was puzzled to account 
for the undoubted fact that he got on much better 
with his employer since the latter’s illness. Three 
months earlier, if put on the witness stand, he would 


Showing How the Boor Was Closed 

have testified unhesitatingly in Mrs. Waverton’s be- 
half ; but, for some occult reason, which he would 
have failed completely to explain, he was now half 
inclined to believe that, bad as 44 Mr. Claude ” had 
unquestionably been, his wife might have used more 
tact with him, and not have shunned him during 
the last year as if he were a leper. 

These things were running through his head as he 
passed along the corridor with Celestine and was 
admitted to a sitting-room in which he found Mrs. 
Waverton and her sister. Kneeling in the depths of 
a big sofa, and wholly engrossed by the pink eyes 
of a Teddy bear, was the golden-haired child who 
had been snatched from death little more than an 
hour ago. 

Rice bowed. Seldom at a loss for words, he now 
congratulated Mrs. Waverton on Miss Kathleen’s 
escape. 

44 1 understand that Mr. Waverton arrived here 
only this morning,” began Doris rather nervously. 

44 Mr. Claude didn’t even wait to see his own 
suite, ma’am. He just stood in the hall for a min- 
ute, told me to put his things tidy, an’ walked out. 
From what I have heard since, ma’am, he must have 
gone straight along the shore — he was brought there 
by Providence, I do believe.” 

So Rice and the hotel manager evidently thought 
that supernatural attention was being devoted to 
Narragansett that day. Mrs. Waverton — or Mrs. 
Elstead, as she figured on the hotel register — was 
23 


No Other Way 

pale enough now, and her eyes were downcast. She 
did not check the valet’s enthusiasm; but her utter- 
ance was still halting when she explained why she 
had sent for him. 

“ You are the only person in the hotel, Rice, whom 
I can take into my confidence,” she said. “ I shall be 
quite outspoken. Do you think Mr. Waverton would 
come and see me if I sent him a note? Mrs. Daunt 
and I have been discussing matters, and I — I feel 
that I ought to thank him for saving Kathleen’s 
life.” 

Mrs. Daunt, some three years older than her sis- 
ter, and so happily married to a New York banker 
that she was already crystallizing into sedate matron- 
hood, shook her head. 

“ Of course we are profoundly grateful for 
Claude’s action, and we cannot help admiring his 
gallantry; but my own view is that it would be best 
to say these things in a letter,” she declared. 

The valet, a veritable Solomon in settling dis- 
putes below stairs, was conscious of a problem that 
called for careful handling. Like most men of his 
class, he was intensely loyal, even to a bad master, 
and Waverton, though vicious and dissolute, had 
never been ungenerous. Then, he was sorry for Mrs. 
Waverton, and would be proud and glad if the un- 
happy couple were reunited. Finally, there was Mrs. 
Daunt, who represented all that he thought most 
fitting and seemly in family life. He touched his 
clean-shaved upper lip with the tips of the fingers 
24 


Showing How the Door Was Closed 

of his right hand, and the left hand went to the 
small of his back. The staff at 64th Street or The 
Dene, the Waverton estate on Lake Champlain, 
would have known instantly that a judicial pro- 
nouncement was imminent. It came — he rejected 
Mrs. Daunt’s counsel summarily. 

“ It ’ud be a fine thing, ma’am, if you an’ Mr. 
Claude could meet an’ have a friendly talk,” he 
said. 

Mrs. Daunt smiled, — not unkindly; for she liked 
and respected Rice, — but the younger woman raised 
her beautiful eyes and looked at him fixedly. 

66 Are you saying this because of my baby’s rescue, 
or for other reasons? ” she asked wistfully. 

Up went Rice’s right hand again: the left had 
not moved. “ Mr. Claude is greatly changed since 
his accident, ma’am,” he said. 

“ In what respect? You may speak plainly, with- 
out fear of giving offense or of your words being 
repeated.” 

“ It’s hard to explain, but he’s a different man.” 

“ Do you think he — regrets ? ” 

Now, Rice was at a loss how to phrase his 
thoughts ; but he essayed the task valiantly. “ It’s 
not so much that, ma’am, as in other ways. He 
hardly touches a drop of liquor, — just a glass of 
wine for dinner, an’ it’s always claret, never cham- 
pagne. He talks differently. And I happen to know 
he is sorry for some things, such as — well, such as 
recent matters in Florida. If you’ll excuse my way 
25 


No Other Way 

of puttin’ it, ma’am, he seems to have wiped the 
slate with a wet sponge.” 

“ Women’s lives are not slates, Rice,” broke in 
Phyllis Daunt, her tone betraying a most pro- 
nounced disbelief in her ex-brother-in-law’s conver- 
sion. 

“ No, ma’am, an’ Mr. Claude might be very angry 
if he heard that I called him a wet sponge,” said 
Rice seriously. 

Mrs. Daunt laughed outright, and even Doris 
smiled. 

“We are discussing methods, not personalities,” 
said the younger woman, correcting her sister rather 
than the valet. “ Thank you, Rice. You have con- 
firmed an opinion I formed, even after one hasty 
glance. Mr. Waverton must have been very ill at 
Palm Beach?” 

“ He was indeed, ma’am.” Rice nearly added 
something of the recent talk between Waverton and 
himself ; but he repressed the impulse. “ Least said 
soonest mended,” was one of his axioms. 

“ Very well. I shall send that note. Please oblige 
me by seeing that my — that Mr. Waverton receives 
it as soon as he comes in. I understand that he is 
out at the moment ; otherwise I could not have 
brought you here.” 

When Waverton returned to the hotel he looked 
five years younger. He had walked along the Point 
Judith road by way of the golf links, and the keen 
air of the Neck had brought renewed vitality to his 
26 


Showing How the Door Was Closed 

cheeks and lent buoyancy to his step. Still, anyone 
watching him as he emerged from the stairs — he 
had avoided the elevator — might have discovered a 
certain furtiveness, or anxiety, in his eyes as he 
glanced into the corridor in which his rooms were 
situated. To his evident relief, it was empty. When 
he reached the sitting-room, Rice handed him a 
note. 

“ Maid left this half an hour ago, sir,” he said. 
Waverton looked at the well-formed, characteristic 
handwriting on the envelope, and glanced sharply at 
the valet, who, however, was raising the blind to ad- 
mit more light. But Rice possessed excellent hear- 
ing, and he certainly caught something like a mut- 
tered objurgation from his employer when the letter 
had been perused. 

“ Ascertain the first train that leaves here,” came 
the imperative command, and by the time Rice was 
back with the information his master had a letter 
written and sealed. 

“ There’s no train until late this afternoon, sir ; 
but we can take the ferry to Newport any time. It’s 
only a short drive to — ” 

“ Very well, we’ll go as quickly as we can. Order 
some luncheon sent here. Get my bill. Ring for a 
boy.” 

Rice, above all else a well-trained servant, obeyed 
in silence. A bellboy came. 

“Do you know Mrs. Elstead’s room?” asked 
Waverton, and the boy confided to his particular 

n 


No Other Way 

friend afterward that his eyes went through him 
like gimlets. 44 Very well, take this note to the 
lady. There is no answer.” 

44 What address shall I put on the baggage labels, 
Mr. Claude? ” inquired Rice ten minutes later. 

He passed without comment the inaccessible place 
mentioned in a monosyllable. Waverton laughed 
with the vexed air of a man who was being unneces- 
sarily worried. 

44 Oh, I don’t know. We’ll decide at Newport. 
No, we’ll go on to Providence. It’s easier to get 
away from. We’ll pick up the sea somewhere else 
on Monday.” 

And so the door of reconciliation was closed, closed 
with a bang! 

Perhaps this man’s hard and unrelenting heart 
might have softened had he seen the white, tear- 
stained face peering through a curtained window on 
the first floor, as the hotel omnibus took Rice and 
himself away at half-past seven. 

44 I told you it was of no avail, Doris,” said Mrs. 
Daunt, as her arm stole round the weeping woman’s 
shoulders. 64 He is a downright bad lot, and you are 
well rid of him.” 

44 1 — I was beginning to hope — for Kathleen’s 
sake — ” was the sobbing answer. 

44 You dear, impulsive child, you could never have 
taken him back! Surely you see now how mistaken 
you were in holding out the olive branch. He is the 
meanest, most despicable man on earth to-day.” 

28 


Showing How the Door Was Closed 

And about that moment Claude Waver ton, while 
the motor-car carried him to the ferry landing, was 
discussing himself. 

“ Women are never satisfied,” he murmured. 
“ Now, one would have thought that Doris Waver- 
ton was well rid of a scamp ! ” 

But the Narragansett Pier incident did not end 
with a woman’s simple request for a meeting, “ owing 
to the extraordinary event ” that had taken place 
that day, and a man’s curt refusal to see her, or, 
indeed, to acknowledge anything remarkable in an 
action that he would have performed “ for any child 
in like circumstances.” The excuse for a scrawl, 
“ owing to an accident,” was in itself an insult. It 
seemed to put her completely out of his life. 

Next morning the Sunday newspapers glowed with 
the romance of it all. “ Society Sensation ” — 
“ Divorced Husband’s Gallantry ” — “ Claude G. 
Waverton Rescues His Own Child from Drowning” 
— the headlines blazed like comets over the land. 

In the same journals, often on the same page, 
appeared that which dealt with another story of 
the sea, — a story with a very different ending. It 
read : 

The fishing schooner Three Brothers put in to Atlantic City 
yesterday with the small cutter Sphinx in tow, and on board 
the latter was the dead body of a man, subsequently identified 
as Herbert W. Kyrle, a rich, eccentric resident of Absecon, 
New Jersey. 

The skipper of the Three Brothers reported that the cutter 
was sighted in the Atlantic about sixty miles off Cape May. 

29 


No Other Way 

The vessel was coming up with the wind and then falling off 
in a way that plainly showed she was not under control. 
Glasses revealed a motionless figure in the cockpit. The 
schooner ran alongside — and, to the horror of the skipper and 
the crew, the derelict’s sole occupant was a man who had been 
dead several days. The helm was loosely lashed, and a pack- 
age of cigarettes was scattered about the cockpit. 

Everything indicated that death had come suddenly from 
paralysis or heart failure when the lone yachtsman was sailing 
his pleasure craft. The skipper recognized the cutter as hail- 
ing from Atlantic City waters. The prevailing westerly and 
northwesterly winds would account for the presence of the 
craft where she was picked up. 

The identity of the victim was established by means of letters 
and a pocketbook. He was little known in Atlantic City, being 
something of a recluse in his home in Absecon, known as “ The 
Rosery.” He lived practically the life of a hermit, so far as 
visitors from the outside world were concerned. His only 
relaxation was sailing his boat, and it was his custom usually 
to go out in her in the evening. There are reports that he 
was occasionally visited by a very handsome and distinguished 
looking woman, who is said to have been his wife. 

The body was examined by Dr. Gilman, the acting Coroner’s 
physician, and under his direction it was removed to the 
morgue. 

Two people, among the millions who read that 
piece of news, were deeply interested in it. One of 
the two was Rice. In a spare hour between break- 
fast and luncheon he read a newspaper. First, he 
shook his head regretfully over the Narragansett 
item; but his thin, shrewd face grew bewildered when 
he reached the suggested solution of the Atlantic 
City mystery. 

“ Queer thing!” he muttered. “It’s enough to 
give one the creeps. Now, am I to show this to Mr. 

30 


Showing How the Door Was Closed 

Claude or am I not? He’s in a better temper this 
mornin’ ; but, like as not, he’ll get mad again if I go 
rakin’ up matters he wants to forget.” 

Still, being a faithful soul, he was willing to risk 
his employer’s displeasure in that same employer’s 
behalf ; so he laid the newspaper before Waverton 
when the latter was lighting an after-luncheon 
cigar. 

“ Have you read that, sir ? ” he asked. 

Waverton took the paper, glanced through the 
paragraph indicated, and looked up. “ It’s a curious 
sort of event,” he said ; “ but how does it specially 
concern me?” 

Then Rice was more surprised than ever. “ The 
address, Mr. Claude ! ” he almost whispered. “ 6 The 
Rosery,’ Absecon, New Jersey — where Mrs. Delamar 
lives I ” 

Waverton threw the newspaper on a table with a 
gesture of disdain. “ Now, if you had told me Mrs. 
Delamar was found in that cutter, you would have 
done me a real good turn,” he said. 

Rice could make neither head nor tail of the re- 
mark, unless what he half suspected was true, — that 
Claude Waverton was heartily tired of Mrs. Dela- 
mar, and bitterly regretted the sorrow and scandal 
she had brought into his life. But, in that case, why 
were Mrs. Waverton’s timid overtures for a recon- 
ciliation rejected? Rice gave it up. There were 
points about the Waverton divorce that were incom- 
31 


No Other Way 

prehensible, and the more he pondered them the less 
he understood them. 

The other person who scanned the day’s news with 
relish was James Leander Steingall, inspector in 
charge of the New York Detective Bureau, who, in 
the opinion of his devoted spouse, was unduly 
thoughtful as he asked for a second helping of kid- 
neys and bacon that Sunday morning. Whosoever 
suggested “ Leander ” as a euphonious name to be 
interposed between “ James ” and “ Steingall ” had 
gone rather by sound than sense; for no one more 
unlike the lovelorn youth who swam the Hellespont 
once too often could possibly be imagined than the 
burly inspector. He was a big, roundly built man, 
bullet-headed, close-cropped, with round eyes, round 
limbs, and a huge fist that closed in a ball. Pre- 
sumably, even in infancy, these characteristics were 
latent but decipherable. 

But his eyes were very blue and highly intelligent, 
and his lips could wrinkle into a kindly though some- 
what inscrutable smile, and his better half knew that 
some weighty question was troubling his active brain 
as he lingered over the one meal in the week that he 
could enjoy at leisure. 

Sunday morning’s breakfast was Mrs. Steingall’s 
special time for learning those little titbits of New 
York’s life with which the public is never regaled. 
Even in a criminal trial of the utmost notoriety there 
are side issues known to the authorities that are not 
allowed to appear in print. If Mrs. Steingall had 
32 


Showing How the Door Was Closed 

kept a diary, and had jotted down therein every- 
thing she was told on fifty-two Sundays in the year 
during the last twenty years, she could have pro- 
duced a book that would break the record in sales, 
and keep the courts busy for months. 

She was far too wise a wife to seek direct in- 
formation. Taking her turn at the newspaper, she 
read the Narragansett “ sensation.” “ I shouldn’t 
be at all astonished if those two came together 
again,” she said. 

“ Which two? ” inquired the great man, carefully 
cutting the end off a cigar. 

“ Mr. Waverton and his wife, of course.” 

“Why? Because he saved the baby?” 

“ Well, isn’t it the strangest coincidence you ever 
read? ” 

“ Coincidences are always strange. If they were 
not, we shouldn’t notice them.” 

“ But he cannot be such a bad man as was repre- 
sented in court.” 

“Oh, come now, Jane! There are scores of con- 
victs in Sing Sing to-day who would have done as 
much for a stranger’s child.” 

“ Still, this affair is wonderful. He practically 
went from the train to the ocean, and jumped in 
after the little girl; though there was a strong tide 
running, and he could use only one arm.” 

“ You have missed the real coincidence, my dear,” 
said Steingall, and his blue eyes twinkled. 

“What is that?” 


33 


No Other Way 

44 Read the message from Atlantic City — about a 
dead man found in a boat.” 

Mrs. Steingall read. 44 It is horrible,” she an- 
nounced; 44 but what has it to do with the Waver ton 
divorce ? ” 

44 1 am just wondering. Herbert W. Kyrle, of Ab- 
secon, is Mrs. Delamar’s husband.” 

44 Jim, you don’t say so ! ” 

44 1 am not on oath, my dear ; but I am speak- 
ing to the best of my belief.” 

44 Of all the amazing things ! ” vowed Mrs. Stein- 
gall. 44 What do you make of it?” 

44 Nothing — at present,” and Steingall went out 
into a strip of garden, where some clumps of sweet 
peas were battling vigorously against the strenuous 
climate of Brooklyn. Having satisfied himself as 
to their progress, he returned to the house and tele- 
phoned headquarters. 

44 Clancy been in yet ? ” he inquired. 

44 No, sir,” said a subordinate. 

44 When he shows up, ask him to come and lunch 
with me here.” 

So it came to pass that while Rice the valet in 
Providence was searching his wits to account for the 
oddity of Claude Waverton’s giving such little heed 
to the mention of Mrs. Delamar’s New Jersey ad- 
dress in the record of the Atlantic City tragedy, 
the two cleverest detectives in New York were dis- 
cussing the same problem, though with more ample 
knowledge, and from a widely different viewpoint. 

34 


CHAPTER III 


WHEREIN A DETECTIVE IS PUZZLED AND ADMITS IT 

Usually, that repository of secrets, the Police 
Headquarters, at the corner of Grand and Centre 
Streets, has too many irons in the fire to per- 
mit of its experts engaging 1 in work that is 
not imperatively called for ; but, as it happened, 
“ the beautiful Mrs. Delamar ” — a descriptive 
phrase by which that lively lady generally fig- 
ured in gossip-mongering newspapers — was one of 
those social meteors whose irregular orbits attract 
the attention of the police. There are always a 
score or more of such sirens kept under unobtrusive 
surveillance. Some among them are dames actu- 
ally moving in good society, some call themselves 
actresses, — by no means hard-working members of 
an honorable profession, but masqueraders of the 
stage, — some are known to the public only by rea- 
son of their striking appearance and ultra-fashion- 
able attire; but, one and all, they are adventuresses, 
and the New York Detective Bureau seldom errs in 
regarding them as potential criminals. And, certain 
members of it had a particular interest in Mrs. 
Delamar. 

Officially, unless requested to make an arrest by 

35 


No Other Way 

other municipal police authorities or federal officials, 
the New York Detective Bureau has no interest ex- 
cept in crimes committed within the city limits. But 
some members of the bureau have been known to take 
a very active interest in affairs that could not pos- 
sibly be included in their regular duties. Various 
powerful influences have had no difficulty in secur- 
ing the aid of the department in matters of which 
there is no official record and in which the Detective 
Bureau could have no concern. 

The head of the bureau had received a 66 request 99 
— really it was as patent as a direct command — 
from a source that it was believed could make and un- 
make police officials, to find out if Mrs. Delamar 
could not be placed in a position where she could 
be dangerous to no one. She had been concerned in 
a certain financial matter of great moment, and it 
was feared that she knew enough to be exceedingly 
dangerous. It was highly important that she should 
be “ silenced,” with never the remotest suggestion 
of the real reason for it, and to this end unlimited 
expense money was available to avoid subsequent offi- 
cial curiosity about vouchers. 

And this is the reason why, after reading the two 
apparently unrelated sensations in the newspaper, 
Steingall sent for Clancy. 

A couple of long-distance calls elicited two new 
facts, — the inquest on the man found dead on board 
the derelict cutter would be held at Atlantic City 
on Wednesday, and Claude Waverton and his valet 

36 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 


had left Narragansett Pier hurriedly on Saturday 
afternoon. 

“ Where have they gone to ? ” asked Steingall, 
who was in communication with the chief of police 
at Narragansett. 

“ We have not troubled to ascertain,” came the 
answer. 

44 Will you kindly find out, and let me know? ” he 
said. 

An hour later he heard that Waverton had gone 
to Newport and thence to Providence, with the added 
item, born of official suspiciousness, that, whereas 
Waverton had stated definitely that he meant to 
pay a prolonged visit to the Rhode Island resort, 
he had cleared out, bag and baggage, within a few 
hours of his arrival. 

“ Nothing in that, I fancy,” said Steingall to 
Clancy. “ I suppose he hardly expected to meet his 
wife there, especially in the same hotel; so he settled 
the difficulty by going at once.” 

“ At any rate, that is where the chase begins,” 
said his colleague. 

“ Just at the moment I don’t see why.” 

“ Isn’t Waverton the most likely man to give re- 
liable data as to Mrs. Delamar’s whereabouts during 
the last month? ” 

“ Well, yes,” and the chief laughed. 

Clancy took a broken cigar from his waistcoat 
pocket, and sniffed it. He did not smoke; but he 
enjoyed the fragrance of good tobacco, and Stein- 

37 


No Other Way 

gall, who was partial to cigars of the best brands, 
kept him supplied with the wherewithal to gratify 
a peculiar taste — though it cut the confirmed smoker 
to the quick every time he saw a fine Havana ruth- 
lessly crushed in Clancy’s wiry fingers. 

44 I can do little in Atlantic City or Absecon till 
Wednesday,” said Clancy, cracking the dried leaves 
as he passed them to and fro beneath his nostrils. 
44 The New Jersey men will have destroyed every 
particle of evidence. Oh, if I had only been on 
board the Three Brothers when that yacht was picked 
up ! If I had been given one glimpse of that man’s 
body before it was disturbed ! The scattered cigar- 
ettes ! What they might have told ! ” 

44 You will be able to smell them, anyhow.” 

44 More than you could do, Steingall. Your ol- 
factory nerves are poisoned and atrophied by clouds 
of smoke.” 

44 Well, have another highball. Sunday after- 
noon, you know.” 

44 No, thanks. I must be off now. When I reach 
Providence I must be primed with Claude G. Waver- 
ton’s history, and I hardly gave an eye to the suit 
while it was before the courts.” 

The two shook hands, and Clancy jerked himself 
out of the house and into a street car. 

It was certainly Nature’s love of opposites that 
not only brought Steingall and Clancy together in 
the Detective Bureau, but united them in the bonds 
of a great friendship. The chief inspector weighed 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 


exactly twice as much as his diminutive aide, and 
Steingall was as massive and reposeful as Clancy 
was small and excitable. Steingall was half Anglo- 
Saxon, half Teuton ; Clancy, though his name seemed 
to betoken Irish descent, was really more than half 
a Frenchman; the one had a genius for analyzing 
evidence, the other possessed an almost uncanny gift 
of reading and following each twist and kink of a 
criminal intelligence. Apart they were highly dan- 
gerous to the undiscovered felon ; when they worked 
together the evildoer was, indeed, in a parlous state. 
And more than one head would have tossed on a 
sleepless pillow that night were it known that the 
44 Big Fellow ” and the 44 Little Fellow ” of the bu- 
reau were already leagued in inquiry into the seem- 
ingly trivial complexities of the Waverton divorce. 

Clancy reached Providence soon after daybreak; 
so he lounged about until the hour grew reasonable. 

Then he breakfasted at the hotel that housed Wa- 
verton, and thought fit to interview Rice before 
seeking audience of Rice’s employer. Being well 
versed in the ways of the upper-class servant, he 
refrained, almost ostentatiously, from making any 
attempt to pump the valet as to his master’s affairs. 

44 I have come from New York to have a word or 
two with Mr. Waverton,” he explained affably. 44 I 
don’t wish to disturb him at too early an hour. 
Shall I send up my card now, or wait a little ? ” 

46 Well, sir, it all depends — ” began Rice. 

Clancy opened his cardcase. 44 Now you will un- 

39 


No Other Way 

derstand,” he said confidentially, yet without over- 
doing the display of candor. “ Of course, being 
Mr. Waverton’s constant companion in his travels, 
you will have followed recent events with interest, 
and I may tell you that Mrs. Delamar’s husband was 
found dead on Saturday under somewhat suspicious 
circumstances.” 

“ So that there Mr. Kyrle was her husband ! ” 
blurted out Rice in his surprise. But he recovered 
his wits instantly, and went on more guardedly. 
“ If you will pardon me, sir, I don’t quite grasp — ” 

“How it concerns Mr. Claude Waverton? Well, 
the lady need not commit bigamy now, for one thing. 
For another, one wonders how much Mr. and Mrs. 
Kyrle have been in each other’s company of late. I 
don’t know, — I am only guessing, — but it is reason- 
able to suppose that Mr. Waverton can speak pretty 
accurately as to Mrs. Delamar’s whereabouts during 
the last month.” 

Obviously, the detective was giving, not asking 
for, information. It was a new experience for Rice. 
In his heart of hearts he regarded Clancy as a bab- 
bler, a truly dangerous person to be intrusted with 
official secrets. Still, human nature being what it 
is, he could not bring himself to stop this rill of 
scandal. Up went his right hand to his lips, while 
his left passed under imaginary swallowtails. In 
a word, Rice was about to make an important pro- 
nouncement. 

“ Of course, Mr. Claude will say what he thinks 

40 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 

fit,” he murmured discreetly; 44 but I happen to be 
aware that he has not set eyes on the lady since we 
came back from Florida.” 

“ Ah, that is what you think,” and Clancy dug 
Rice genially in the ribs ; 44 but you are not Mr. 
Waverton’s shadow, eh? He may have met her every 
day in New York, or elsewhere, without your being 
the wiser.” 

44 Not at all, sir, not at all! Don’t you believe it! 
My master is a changed man since his accident. 
Really, if I hadn’t been with him regular durin’ the 
past seven years, I’d — well, I hardly know how to put 
it. But I’ll take my oath he has done with Mrs. 
Delamar for good and all. Why, it was only yes- 
terday — ” 

Then Rice hesitated. He was undoubtedly a level- 
headed fellow, and it suddenly dawned on him that, 
for some unaccountable reason, he was emulating this 
garrulous little detective in talkativeness. 

44 Exactly,” said Clancy quietly. 44 But Mr. Wa- 
verton and you yourself noticed the paragraph in 
the newspapers, and the address was bound to catch 
your eye.” 

44 Well, ’aving said so much, I may as well finish. 
It was I who showed the hitem to Mr. Claude, an’ ’e 
said ’e only wished it was Mrs. Delamar instead of 
’er ’usband who ’ad been found on board that cut- 
ter. An’ he didn’t say 4 ’er ’usband ’ neether. ’E 
didn’t seem to know who Mr. Kyrle was.” 

Rice’s sudden loss of aspirates betrayed the 
41 


No Other Way 

measure of his annoyance, for he was now thoroughly 
vexed with himself ; yet he did not realize until long 
afterward that Clancy managed to soothe him with 
a few well-chosen words. 

“ A very creditable remark, Mr. Rice,” and the 
detective turned to admire an old print of Bunker 
Hill hanging in the lobby where the two were talking. 
“ That woman has caused far too much mischief and 
suffering for any honest man to continue to be fas- 
cinated by her. And I have no doubt that Mr. Wa- 
verton is a good-hearted fellow; a bit weak, but 
sound at the core. Pity he was not wise to Mrs. 
Delamar’s game a little sooner; but it is never too 
late to mend, eh? Well, now, when can I see him? 
Our bit of chatter is just by the way, and means 
nothing. I need hardly remind you that I have 
spoken freely because you are a trusted servant; in- 
deed, one might almost say, a friend of the family.” 

Nevertheless, the valet felt like a cat whose fur 
has been stroked the wrong way when he brought 
Clancy’s card to Waverton, and he scarcely noticed 
that the latter held the bit of pasteboard a long 
time between finger and thumb before saying: 

“ Show Mr. Clancy in, Rice.” 

Now, the old Claude Waverton would surely have 
exclaimed, “What in — — does the idiot want?” 
and garnished the phrase with a strenuous denuncia- 
tion of the Detective Bureau in general and “ Mr. 
C. F. Clancy ” in particular ; whereas, this later 
attitude might well betoken a real sense of the seri- 
42 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 


ousness, if not the active anxiety, that attached 
itself to a visit from such a personage. But Rice, 
flurried and doubting, was only too glad to receive 
a placid order, and ushered the detective into the 
room with due ceremony. 

44 I hope I have not made too early a call, sir,” 
said Clancy, openly recognizing the fact that Waver- 
ton was in his dressing-gown, and breakfasting. 

44 I don’t care a red cent so long as you have not 
come to arrest me ! ” was the surprising answer. 

“Arrest you! Good gracious! what for?” 

44 That is for you to say. If it is about that 
baby, — about Kathleen, — I didn’t push her into the 
sea. She fell in, and I jumped after her. I can call 
a dozen witnesses, including a man with a telescope.” 

46 A telescope ? ” 

44 Yes. The manager of the hotel told me that 
some fellow was watching me as I strolled down the 
pier, and saw the whole performance.” 

44 How very interesting ! It reminds me of an in- 
cident that occurred on the Maine coast some years 
ago. A reporter had occasion to telephone to a 
lighthouse that was cut off from the mainland by a 
causeway covered at half tide, and while he was talk- 
ing to the lighthouse keeper’s wife he heard her 
despairing cries at seeing her husband drowned be- 
fore her eyes in an attempt to cross from the shore 
through a breaking sea.” 

44 Gee whizz! Did he, though? Glad this person 
with the telescope didn’t have quite a similar experi- 
43 


No Other Way 

ence. Have you come from New York, Mr. Clancy? 
Will you have some breakfast? ” 

44 I arrived on the morning train ; so I have been 
killing time by sightseeing and eating. My errand 
is simple enough — but first let me congratulate you 
on your gallant and truly fortunate deed at Nar- 
ragansett Pier. The newspapers are full of it.” 

44 1 assure you I was present by the merest chance. 
I had not the slightest notion that Mrs. Waverton 
was staying there, or I should certainly have chosen 
some other locality for my rest cure. Well, why are 
you here? There is a woman in the case, of course.” 

44 Yes, sir — the woman.” 

44 And what of her? ” 

44 Mrs. Delamar’s real name is Josephine Kyrle. 
The man who was found dead in an open boat, drift- 
ing about the sea some sixty miles from Atlantic 
City, was her husband.” 

44 1 guessed as much.” 

44 Ah ! Didn’t you know ? ” 

44 1 have never betrayed the slightest curiosity as 
to the existence, or fate, of the late Mr. Delamar, or 
Kyrle.” 

44 But you knew that some such person existed? ” 

Waverton waited a second or two before he an- 
swered. 44 Not until my man, Rice, showed me the 
paragraph in the newspapers yesterday morning. 
Even then, it was a surmise, a guess, as I have put 
it.” 

44 When did you last see Mrs. Delamar? ” 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 

Again Waverton paused; but this time his hesi- 
tancy might be explained by an effort of memory. 
“ I think I am right in saying that I met her by 
appointment a week ago last Friday.” 

“ In New York? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Now, for some reason, it was the detective who 
abandoned the quick thrust and parry of question 
and answer; but his amazingly bright and piercing 
black eyes dwelt inquiringly on Waverton’s steel- 
gray eyes, and Waverton laughed angrily. 

“ You, I suppose, like the rest of the world, are 
aware that I have lived the life of a first-rate fool 
during the last few years,” he went on, suddenly 
thrusting aside the breakfast tray, and taking a pipe 
from the mantelpiece. “ Well, it will help elucidate 
my position if I tell you that the knock on the head 
I got on the rocks at Palm Beach befogged my wits 
in some respects but cleared them in others. Have 
you ever heard that experienced hypnotists can cause 
cataleptic subjects to simulate varying emotions by 
merely pressing on certain nerve centers ? That is 
just my case. Those rocks pressed my skull rather 
severely, and perhaps affected certain convolutions 
of my brain permanently. At any rate, I came to 
the conclusion, when I regained my senses — the new 
set, I mean — that the less I saw of Mrs. Delamar in 
the future the better it would be for my own peace 
of mind.” 

“ Did the — er — lady take the suggestion kindly? ” 

45 


No Other Way 

said Clancy, when the other gave his attention to 
filling the pipe. 

“ By no means. So I offered a golden bridge. It 
seems I won about twenty-five thousand dollars be- 
fore leaving Boynton on the night of the accident, 
and I gave her the wad. It is a slang expression, but 
terse, and suits a sizable roll of greenbacks.” 

“And the meeting in New York?” prompted the 
little man quietly. 

“ Took place in the grillroom of the Waldorf- 
Astoria. The lady was discreetly pathetic; but I 
was adamant — one can do that sort of thing without 
unnecessary effort in a crowded grillroom.” 

“ Have you ever lived in the tropics, Mr. Waver- 
ton ? ” asked Clancy suddenly. 

Waverton was lighting the pipe, and he concluded 
the operation before replying. “ Is that a delicate 
allusion to Palm Beach — or Boynton? It is pretty 
hot in both places at times,” he said, with a laugh. 

Clancy laughed, too. He rose. Obviously, the 
curious intrusion of a query as to Waverton’s for- 
eign experiences was of no real interest to him. 

“ I am sorry to have inflicted my presence on you 
at this inconvenient hour,” he said ; “ but I need 
hardly explain that we men of the bureau pry and 
peer in the most unlikely places for clews, or sug- 
gestions, or motives, while following up an inquiry 
of this sort — which, of course, may have a perfectly 
natural and straightforward explanation. I may 
take it, I am sure, that you know practically nothing 

46 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 

of Mrs. Delamar’s life or conduct since you left her 
house at Palm Beach ? 55 

Waverton, too, stood up. “ Practically nothing,” 
he repeated. “ Is it too early to suggest a high- 
ball? ” 

“ Yes, sir; but if I may have a cigar — ” 

“ Certainly. Try one of these.” 

He placed a box on the table. Clancy noticed 
that he lifted it with his left hand. Waverton saw 
that the detective smiled. 

“What is amusing you?” he asked. 

“ I was wondering what you would think of my 
queer way of treating a cigar. I do not smoke; but 
I like the smell of tobacco.” 

“ I don’t understand.” 

“ You won’t think it rude of me if I take a cigar 
and simply sniff it? ” 

“ Of course not. Every man to his taste ; though 
yours is a peculiar one.” 

“ And, by the way, Mr. Waverton, when you met 
Mrs. Delamar last Friday by appointment, had she 
written to you ? ” 

“Yes. You want the address, I suppose?” 

“ It would oblige me greatly.” 

Waverton unlocked a leather box that lay on a 
side table, and searched among some papers. “ Here 
you are,” he said, producing a letter. He glanced 
through it. “Would you care to see the contents? 
They are brief, and eminently — noncommittal, shall 
I say? ” 


« 


No Other Way 

Clancy took the letter, and examined it with a 
slowness that was surprising in a man usually so 
alert and decisive. 

“ Thank you,” he said. “ Allow me to apologize 
once more. Good-morning.” 

“ One word before you go. I have been rather 
too much in the limelight of late, and — er — ” 

“ I see no reason whatsoever why your name 
should figure in this inquiry,” said Clancy gravely. 

When the door had closed on him, Waverton laid 
aside the pipe. “ I must be cultivating nerves,” he 
muttered. “ What the dickens did that fellow mean 
by asking if I had ever lived in the tropics, and then 
dropping it as suddenly? ” 

Then he rang for Rice, and bade the valet order 
a fresh breakfast, as the eatables had gone cold. 

Meanwhile, Clancy had consulted a railway folder. 
He found that he could go on to Narragansett Pier, 
pass a couple of hours in that charming seaside 
town, and return to New York in the evening. He 
had time to visit police headquarters before taking 
the train. On the way he amused himself by jotting 
down the exact text of the note written by Mrs. 
Delamar. It ran: 

Dear Clo-Clo. — Do give me half an hour, somewhere, any 
day, but soon. Yours ever, Feena. 

“ 6 Clo-Clo’ — his pet name, no doubt,” mused the 
detective. 44 And his sporty friends call him 
£ Curly.’ I wonder why? Now, he strikes me as the 
48 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 

sort of man who doesn’t quite answer to either 
4 Clo-Clo ’ or 6 Curly.’ Must be on the principle of 
the old maid who called her black cat 6 Snowball.’ ” 
At Narragansett, by being even more daringly 
confidential with the manager of the hotel than he 
was with Rice, Clancy soon ascertained every scrap 
of fact and fancy attached to Claude Waverton’s 
brief visit. Especially was he interested in the 
singular experience of John Stratton Tearle, who, 
when seated on the veranda, had watched Waverton’s 
remarkable rescue of his own child from drowning. 

As the detective was in Narragansett during the 
luncheon hour, it was an easy matter to have a good 
look at the telescope-using stranger, a well set up, 
handsome man of the stockbroker type; but, oddly 
enough, Clancy did not enter the dining-room him- 
self, protesting to the hospitable manager that he 
felt compelled to look up some friends in the town. 

He made no great effort to find them, however. 
After a brisk scrutiny of the hotel register, he 
loitered about the promenade. He was even begin- 
ning to look at his watch, when his patience was 
rewarded by seeing Tearle, who was smoking in his 
favorite veranda, rise quickly from a chair, and lift 
his hat to two women who came out of the hotel and 
entered a waiting carriage. 

The three chatted with the ease of old friends 
until a Normandy nurse appeared, leading a little 
girl by the hand. When these two had been safely 
disposed in the carriage, the coachman drove off, 
49 


No Other Way 

and the vehicle happened to pass the seat that held 
Clancy’s small body. 

44 The wife, the sister, the baby, the nurse, and 
the villain,” said he. 

Then he turned his back on Narragansett ; and, 
as Mrs. Daunt’s coachman was a most respectable 
man, it may safely be assumed that the detective 
was not thinking of him when ticking off the five 
persons of whose identity he had taken stock before 
bidding farewell to the sunlit Atlantic. 

It was his custom, when opportunity served, to 
pass an hour at night in Steingall’s sanctum at 
Centre Street. There, high above the neighboring 
buildings, looking out over a lamp-spangled vista of 
downtown New York, the two men who knew more 
of the city’s secrets than any others then living would 
discuss the day’s events. 

As it happened, late as it was, Steingall was in 
when Clancy tapped at the door, and he thrust aside 
a pile of papers with a sigh of relief. 

64 Well — any results?” he asked. 

44 1 really don’t know,” said Clancy, seating him- 
self on the edge of a chair, and placing his hands 
on his knees. That was his characteristic attitude. 
He seemed to be always ready for a sudden spring 
in pursuit of either a malefactor or a theory. Stein- 
gall used to chaff him by pretending to believe that 
he slept in that same pose in a specially constructed 
bed. 

44 You did not wholly waste your day, I take it,” 

50 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 

went on the big man, pinching the end off a 
cigar. 

44 No. Before you light up, tell me what brand 
this is,” and Clancy held out the cigar given 
him by Claude Waverton. 

44 It is a genuine Havana, — not the export type ; 
but the sort of smoke the planters themselves like,” 
said the chief inspector, after a close examination. 

“I thought so. An acquired taste, I believe?” 

44 Yes. Cubans and South Americans affect them, 
and buy them even here.” 

44 But this lively member of the Four Hundred is 
neither a Cuban nor an Argentino.” 

64 He can’t be.” 

44 He was a drunkard, a bon vivant , a firstnighter 
at theaters, and a frequenter of boxing clubs.” 

44 Exactly.” 

44 But the man I have seen has never indulged to 
excess in anything, unless it was hard work.” 

44 How do you mean — the man you have seen ? ” 

44 1 interviewed Claude Waverton at Providence, 
and the impression he left on me was of a young 
New Yorker who had roughed it in the West, either 
as a miner or cowpuncher, and, having succeeded to a 
good estate, was now settling down into the quiet 
dignity of country life.” 

44 You must try again, Clancy,” laughed Stein- 
gall. 44 Claude Waverton has been bailed out of the 
Night Court at least three times. Once he nar- 
rowly escaped imprisonment for buckling up a 

51 


No Other Way 

bouncer at the Casino, and, when his nerves were 
steady three years ago, he had his automobile license 
withdrawn in this State. Why, man alive, there is 
no livelier spark in Manhattan than he at this min- 
ute ! ” 

“ He called it catalepsy,” sniggered Clancy. 

“ Called what catalepsy? ” 

“ The change, the transformation — puts it all 
down to a new bump on his cranium.” 

“Did you discuss the matter?” 

“ Yes, in a sort of way. Odd thing ! Don’t 
understand it. It’s the kind of conversion you read 
about in a Sunday school magazine, and I have al- 
ways fancied that such things were the exclusive 
privileges of prizefighters and toughs. In any case, 
this has nothing to do with Mrs. Delamar and her 
dead hubby. The lady was in town last Friday week. 
She wrote to Waverton — called him c Dear Clo-Clo.’ 
Fancy that ! ” 

“ Why shouldn’t she call him 6 Clo-Clo,’ or any 
other fool name she had a mind to? Bless me if I 
know what you are driving at ! ” 

“ I don’t know myself what I am driving at, nor 
where I am being driven. There are elements in 
this business that would puzzle an analytical chemist, 
if it were possible to put human nature in a glass jar 
and resolve it as one tests lard. Have you ever heard 
of John Stratton Tearle? — Wall Street style, tall, 
eye-glasses, gold-mounted cane, telescope, well- 
manicured hands — which he doesn’t chew.” 


52 


Wherein a Detective Is Puzzled 

Steingall smiled. The concluding words were a 
hit at his own habit of nibbling his nails when deep 
in thought. He unlocked a drawer in the desk, took 
out a small volume, with indented index letters, and 
glanced through some of its pages. 

“ Not here,” he said. 

Clancy seemed to be disappointed. He leaned 
forward, picked up the cigar brought from Provi- 
dence, and sniffed it eagerly. 

“ Suppose now you tell me what you have been 
doing,” continued the chief good-humoredly. 

The little man was deep in his narrative of the 
day’s occurrences when a station sergeant entered. 

“ Telephone message for you, Mr. Clancy,” he 
said. 

Clancy read the written slip: 

Chief of police, Providence, telephoned Mr. Clancy, ten- 
fifteen p. m. — Claude G. Waverton and valet left Providence 
for Boston. 

He passed the paper across the table. 

“ Claude G. Waverton is evidently very anxious to 
get well away from Mrs. Delamar,” he said dryly. 

“ You must have scared him stiff,” commented 
Steingall. “Shall we ’phone Boston?” 

“No need. We can find him easily when we want 
him.” 

“But — do we want him?” 

“ I think so. The Waverton suit has not ended. 
It is only just beginning. I am glad I went to 
Providence. I don’t even regret Narragansett Pier. 
53 


No Other Way 

Have you ever seen Mrs. Waverton? Pretty woman, 
very. Tearle didn’t look at her through a tele- 
scope — not he! Queer thing he should possess a 
telescope. Not one man in a hundred owns one. I 
wonder if he knows Mrs. Delamar? People who 
have telescopes usually squint through them at ships, 
boats, cutters, and craft of that sort.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Steingall, and his blue eyes sparkled. 


54 


CHAPTER IV 


SUICIDE OR MURDER? 

At Atlantic City, Clancy was faced by the unex- 
pected. In the first instance, a pale, beautiful, and 
singularly self-possessed widow was there to pay a be- 
lated tribute of respect to the memory of a husband 
whom she had neglected in life ; and, in the second, 
it was discovered that the man in the boat had died 
from the effects of a virulent poison, and not, as was 
assumed at the outset, from heart disease. 

By an accident that was not devoid of significance 
in the course taken later by events, Clancy chanced 
to be in the office of the local chief of police on 
the Tuesday evening when the doctor who had made 
this alarming discovery announced it in person. 

He was a young man, fresh from the hospitals, and 
was acting as substitute for the long-established 
practitioner who officiated as coroner’s physician. 
When he entered the chief’s private room none could 
guess from his cool and collected demeanor that he 
was the bearer of startling intelligence. He smiled 
pleasantly when the Atlantic City police officer said : 

“ Ah, Dr. Gilman, we were just speaking about 
you! This is Mr. C. F. Clancy, of the Detective 
Bureau, New York.” 


55 


No Other Way 

“ Indeed ! ” The doctor’s eyebrows curved with 
amiable astonishment. 66 Does New York think al- 
ready, then, that our local mystery owns an im- 
portance beyond the ordinary ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Clancy. 

“ But why? I have read every word that ap- 
peared in the newspapers — ” 

“ We try to keep editors guessing at times.” 

The young medico realized that his inquiry con- 
cerning the attitude of the Detective Bureau had been 
deftly turned aside ; but he only said : 

“ Yet I am puzzled. Frankly speaking, I had no 
idea that you people in New York were so sapient; 
for, as it happens, I am here to-night to make a 
statement that gives an unpleasant twist to the affair. 
Mr. Kyrle did not die from natural causes. He 
was poisoned.” 

The local official started, and glanced darkly at 
Clancy; for not a word had the little man said of 
any ground for suspicion that the death of the 
cutter’s owner was other than a mischance that might 
overtake any middle-aged man of sedentary habits 
and somewhat corpulent build. 

But Clancy only smiled into the doctor’s eyes. It 
suited his purposes to pretend occasionally to a 
knowledge he did not possess. 

“ What was the drug? ” he asked. 

“ A rare one — crystals of nicotine. It is an irri- 
tant poison, and, owing to its deadly excitation of 
the heart, the symptoms may easily be mistaken for 
56 


Suicide — or Murder? 


those of angina pectoris. In this instance, the fact 
that the dead man had undoubtedly been lying in 
the boat at least four days added to the difficulty 
of diagnosis. Therefore, although I had some sus- 
picion of the truth from the first glance, I kept my 
opinions to myself until I was satisfied beyond doubt 
that an extraordinarily powerful dose of nicotine 
crystals in solution had been administered.” 

“In what kind of solution, Dr. Gilman?” said 
Clancy. 

“ In brandy, I believe ; but that is nothing more 
than a well-founded guess. I mean that brandy was 
found in the stomach; but whether it was partaken 
of about the same time as the poison, or used as 
an agent for disguising the exceedingly acrid and 
nauseous taste of the nicotine, I cannot be positive.” 

“ You are prepared to vouch for the result of your 
analysis ? ” said Clancy, taking the lead in the in- 
quiry with the air of one who was merely confirming 
a theory arrived at long ago. For his humor some- 
times assumed a sardonic guise, and he loved to be- 
wilder his colleagues. 

“ Oh, yes, I am sure of my facts. As it happens, 
I am an honors man in toxicology, and have made 
special researches into the nature and effect on the 
body of nicotine in its various forms. There are few 
poisons so little understood ; or rather, so widely mis- 
understood. The quantity of nicotine in tobacco is 
very small, seldom more than two per cent, in good 
cigars, while it oxidizes and volatilizes when exposed 

57 


No Other Way 

to the air, so it is nearly, if not quite, harmless in 
that form. But in crystals — it is worse than arse- 
nic!” 

“ It can also be detected in tobacco smoke? ” com- 
mented Clancy. 

“ Yes,” and again the doctor wondered what man- 
ner of man this strangely wizened little fellow could 
be; for that was an addendum not likely to be made 
by anyone without close study of the subject under 
discussion. It was a pity Steingall was not present. 
He would have enjoyed the perplexity of the Atlantic 
City men. 

“What dose would be fatal?” inquired the de- 
tective. 

“ A sixteenth of a grain induces active symptoms 
of poisoning. A grain will kill anybody. I have 
come to the conclusion that this unfortunate person, 
Kyrle, must have swallowed at least ten grains. But, 
of course, in a serious matter like this, you will need 
to have my opinion confirmed, and I have brought a 
portion of the viscera for submission to the State 
analyst,” whereupon the doctor produced a grew- 
some looking sealed bottle, and put it on the chief’s 
desk. 

By this time the local official had smothered any 
feeling of resentment he might have felt against 
Clancy for what looked like a display of unnecessary 
reticence during their preliminary chat. Here was 
a criminal mystery of the first magnitude, and his 
professional soul gloated over the prospect. 

58 


Suicide — or Murder? 


“ Great Scott ! ” he cried. “ What a sensation 
this will cause to-morrow ! ” 

“ Well, not exactly to-morrow,” put in Clancy 
pleasantly. “ It would never do to blurt out all we 
know in that fashion. Dr. Gilman will simply stick 
to his original belief, — that the indications pointed 
to a fatal attack of heart disease, — and the inquest 
will be adjourned for a fortnight. We can take the 
Coroner fully into our confidence, and he will then 
close the inquiry at once. I need hardly insist that 
the less fuss we make about it now the more chance 
we have of laying hands on the criminals — supposing, 
that is, a crime has been committed.” 

On second thought, the chief agreed that Clancy 
was right. “ All the same,” he said sapiently, “ we 
must not allow ourselves to be carried away from 
the main issue. Whatever the cause of death, the 
man was found in the boat, miles out at sea, and he 
was fond of sailing the cutter alone. In fact, he 
was a very unsociable personage, and had made no 
friends at Absecon ; though he had lived in ‘ The 
Rosery ’ during the last five years without a break. 
It strikes me at once as being a case of determined 
suicide, carried out in a rather melodramatic man- 
ner.” 

He thought he had summed up the affair rather 
neatly, and gazed complacently at the bottle on the 
table as though he half expected it to gurgle forth 
its approval. This, however, the bottle did not do. 
A great blob of red sealing-wax covered a capacious 

59 


No Other Way 

cork, and the green fluted glass revealed nothing 
of the noisome contents ; while a red label, bearing 
the word “ Poison ” in big, black letters, stared back 
at him, but whether in agreement or reproach no 
man could say. 

Clancy and the doctor exchanged glances. Each 
had the same thought, — that someone else might also 
be warned of the danger of being “ carried away 
from the main issue.” But Clancy changed the drift 
of the conversation. Generally he was tactful with 
the members of his own profession ; unless, indeed, 
they were his actual colleagues of the Bureau, whom 
he would rend and sear with sarcasm if they 
dared to differ from him when he was really in ear- 
nest. 

“ Is anything known in Absecon of the widow, Mrs. 
Kyrle? ” he asked. 

“ The two did not live together. I am told they 
have been more or less separated during some years ; 
but I have ascertained by telephone from the police 
at Absecon that Mrs. Kyrle visited the deceased on 
Saturday week — came over from New York for the 
week-end — and went off on Tuesday. It is not quite 
clear whether or not any strictly independent witness 
saw Kyrle alive subsequently, though two servants 
in the house are sure that their master was about 
the place for some hours after Mrs. Kyrle’s de- 
parture. However, the widow is in Atlantic City 
now. She came here from Absecon to-day, and she 
has promised to attend the inquest to-morrow.” 

60 


Suicide — or Murder? 

“ They were not exactly at daggers drawn, then? ” 
said Clancy. 

“ No. It doesn’t strike one as being a complete 
severance between husband and wife. Oh, there is 
one odd thing which the man at Absecon told me. 
No one there, outside the household at 4 The 
Rosery,’ knows Mrs. Kyrle by sight. She was sel- 
dom seen by daylight, although, when she turned 
up, she usually remained several days ; but she al- 
ways went about deeply veiled. Indeed, the women 
who saw her believed that she must be suffering from 
some disfigurement, and was unwilling to reveal it. 
Even I, after having met her to-day, could not de- 
scribe her features ; although she is a woman of 
very elegant appearance.” 

“ You will see her face to-morrow, at any rate,” 
said Clancy. “ I suppose the Coroner will insist on 
her veil being raised.” 

“ Oh, no doubt. He is rather a stickler about 
photographs, though. I don’t imagine he will give 
the snapshotters much liberty inside the court.” 

“ I agree with him cordially,” said Clancy. “ In 
case nothing is said about photographers at the open- 
ing of the inquiry, will you kindly jog his memory? ” 

“ Well, as you are interesting yourself in this 
business — ” 

“ But I shall not be here.” 

“ Not here ! I thought you were keen on it.” 

“ Not at the present stage, and not officially at 
all. You see, to-morrow’s proceedings will be quite 

61 


No Other Way 

formal, — identification, an order for burial, and an 
adjournment, — not another word, eh? Perhaps you 
can arrange to dispense altogether with Dr. Gilman’s 
evidence ; though it will do no harm if he just gives a 
colorless opinion founded exclusively on his earliest 
impression. Not a hint of foul play, on any account. 
By the way, Doctor,” and Clancy swung round on 
the edge of his chair as if he were pulled by invisible 
wires, “what was your first impression? You saw 
the body in the boat, I take it ? ” 

“ Yes.” Dr. Gilman hesitated a moment. “ In a 
matter of this sort,” he went on, “ where a haphazard 
word might be mischievous, one ought to be careful 
in expressing oneself. But I think I can say that the 
naturalness of the position of the body was somewhat 
overdone. It had a sort of stage effect. A man of 
immense resolution might have kept himself unmoved 
on the little seat provided in the cockpit of the cutter, 
notwithstanding the frightful spasms induced by the 
preliminary effects of an irritant poison. But I 
should doubt it. In ordinary conditions, I would 
expect to find him doubled up with contortions. 
Then, again, the scattered cigarettes had an air of 
deliberateness. To my mind, if Kyrle committed 
suicide he tried to convince those who found him 
that he had died instantly from heart disease; on 
the other hand, if he was murdered, and put in that 
boat by those who killed him, they aimed at achieving 
the same result.” 

“But a murderer does not try to advertise his 

62 


Suicide — or Murder? 

work by placing the corpse of his victim in a sailing 
boat, and setting it adrift on the open sea,” said 
the Atlantic City chief. 

“ It all depends what motive inspired the murder,” 
said Clancy. 

“ In any case, it could hardly be the act of a wife 
who wanted to get rid of her husband, and I fancy 
it will be difficult to discover any other person in 
quiet little Absecon who would carry out a crime in 
such a sensational way.” The speaker laughed at 
the notion. He knew these easy-going New Jersey 
folk, and Kyrle was just the kind of crank to kill 
himself ostentatiously. 

Clancy nodded ; but made no reply. Then he said, 
in his abrupt way, “ Where are the cigarettes ? ” 

“ Here.” The local police officer opened a drawer, 
and brought to light a number of cigarettes carefully 
wrapped in paper. 

The detective counted them. There were eleven, 
all told, and they bore the name of a Fifth Avenue 
firm of importers. 

“ The newspaper spoke of a ‘ package of ciga- 
rettes,’ ” he said. “ Was that a figure of speech, 
or was there actually a torn wrapper? ” 

“ No wrapper was found. But our fishermen al- 
ways buy cigarettes by the packet; so they would 
use the phrase naturally.” 

“ Turkish, too,” said Clancy, with a dainty sniff. 
“ High-priced, I have no doubt ; but poor in quality, 
— the sort of rubbish a woman smokes. I cannot 
63 


No Other Way 

conceive it possible for a woman to be a connoisseur 
of tobacco; can you, Dr. Gilman? ” 

“ Not the cigarette-smoking lady of fashion.” 

“ Any woman ? ” 

“ Yes. The old crone who smokes a pipe has an 
educated taste in the matter of thick twist, or ladies’ 
roll, or nail-rod — just as her fancy lies. Tobacco- 
nists tell me they have to be very particular about 
the quality of their cheap tobaccos.” 

Then Dr. Gilman hurried away; for he was in 
charge of a large practice, and his laboratory tests 
had demanded some hours of close attention. 

“ Smart youngster, that,” was Clancy’s tribute 
when the door closed on the doctor. 

“ Anything of interest found in the man’s 
clothes? ” he went on. 

The chief gave him an inventory, and pulled open 
another drawer which contained a miscellaneous as- 
sortment of articles. A checkbook, mostly stubs, 
yielded little of interest, because nearly all the en- 
tries were to “ Self,” and the others obviously related 
to tradesmen’s accounts. But among some letters 
was one that had been written by Mrs. Kyrle, and 
Clancy read it as carefully as he had scrutinized 
that same handwriting at Providence the previous 
day. It ran: 

Dear Herbert. — If convenient to you, I purpose running 
over from New York on Saturday. I shall leave again on 
Tuesday by the morning train; so I am sure you will not 
regard this brief visit as a very great affliction. Yours, 

J OSEPHINE. 


64 


Suicide — or Murder? 


He could not be certain; but he believed (a belief 
afterward verified) that the address given was one 
of those accommodation addresses which can be hired 
in New York and every other city. The date was 
that on which she had written to Waverton beseech- 
ing an interview. As for the handwriting, it was 
identical with that in the note signed 44 Feena.” 

44 It confirms your information from Absecon,” he 
said, 44 and is therefore valuable. Anything else in 
the correspondence? ” 

44 The remaining letters are from gentlemen who 
seem to be members of some learned society. They 
are mostly in Greek, or about it.” 

44 Greek ! ” 

44 Yes, giving different texts of Scripture, so far 
as I can make out.” 

It almost bewildered Clancy to picture Mrs. Dela- 
mar’s husband as a man of a religious turn of mind; 
but a hasty survey of the letters themselves soon 
revealed the progress of a literary and scientific, if 
not an actively agnostic, inquiry into disputed verses 
of Holy Writ. One writer, a learned professor at 
Harvard, went so far as to charge Kyrle with delib- 
erate suppression of contemporary history in his 
eagerness to prove a point in dispute. 

44 Would you like to see Kyrle’s body? The mor- 
tuary is not more than five minutes’ walk from here,” 
suggested the chief of police. 

Clancy declined the offer with thanks, and betook 
himself to the Pennsylvania station. He intended, 
65 


No Other Way 

he said, to pass the night in Philadelphia. When 
he was gone, the local official shook his head over 
the ways of New York. He was a man of wide ex- 
perience; but he had never encountered a detective 
who resembled Clancy in any respect. 

But the diminutive sleuth knew what he was about. 
He meant to obtain a warrant to enable him to enter 
44 The Rosery,” if such a drastic step were demanded ; 
but he ascertained next day that the house was de- 
serted, because Mrs. Kyrle, Mary Mallow (cook- 
housekeeper), and a man named Hopkins (gardener 
and general factotum) were all at Atlantic City, 
summoned thither for the inquest. 

The house was admirably situated for the resi- 
dence of a recluse. It lay in a delightful country 
lane running parallel with the shore of the shallow 
channel that cuts off the sandspit of Atlantic City 
from the mainland. A hedge — or rather a long, 
high, dense clump of rhododendrons and other ever- 
greens — absolutely shut off the building from view, 
and even the carriageway leading to the front door 
wound between thick screens of shrubbery. All 
around the outer borders of nearly two acres of 
ground were tall trees and thorn hedges which had 
been allowed to run wild. Indeed, it was evident 
that the estate had been laid out by some wealthy 
amateur gardener who had employed half a dozen 
men ; but now only a small section near the house was 
kept in order ; the rest was an overgrown wilderness ; 
even the wealth of American Beauty roses that gave 
66 


Suicide — or Murder? 

the place its name had been allowed to riot for years 
unpruned and untrained. 

At one time a lawn had extended from the draw- 
ing-room windows to high-water mark; but the open 
view of the sea thus afforded had been deliberately 
blocked by an ugly boathouse, while some three or 
four rows of semi-tropical shrubs had been planted 
on the fine turf, apparently with the sole object of 
shutting out the prying eyes of boating parties. 

But Clancy gave only slight heed to these eccen- 
tricities of taste. He walked rapidly round the ex- 
terior of the house, and then, to make sure it was 
unoccupied for the hour, rang the front doorbell. 

He heard a loud jangle in some remote apartment; 
but there was no answer. Then he peered through 
the windows, and found himself looking into two well- 
furnished rooms that bore no signs of being used. 
One was apparently a morning room and the other a 
library ; but they were dust-sheeted and desolate. 

Passing to the left, and then to the right, through 
another of the leafy alleys with which the strange 
property abounded, he reached the kitchen quarters. 
Here were tokens of life, and a half-open scullery 
window looked inviting; for there is little dread of 
thieves in these remote corners of New Jersey. He 
raised the lower sash, climbed in, replaced the win- 
dow in its original position, and began a tour of 
the interior. 

The dining-room and drawing-room faced the 
channel, or, to be exact, looked out on a row of 
67 


No Other Way 

shrubs and trees backed by the corrugated iron roof 
of the boat-shed. These were evidently in everyday 
occupancy; but they did not invite close inquiry. 
A staircase climbed two sides of a spacious central 
hall, and up this Clancy skipped nimbly. Furnished 
but disused bedrooms filled the front upper floor ; 
but three rooms on the back promised developments. 
One was evidently the dead man’s sleeping apart- 
ment. Next to it, with a communicating door, was 
a comfortable study, and, in the opposite corner of 
that side of the building, beyond a bathroom, was 
the bedroom in which Mrs. Kyrle had taken up her 
abode temporarily. The detective entered this room 
first. 

Of course, as the woman was staying in Atlantic 
City at the moment, her dressing-table was cleared 
of its knickknacks. A couple of heavy trunks, each 
bearing recent labels of Florida railways and hotels, 
stood at the foot of the bed. They were locked, and 
apparently full, and their presence perplexed Clancy 
for a moment. Then he laughed. 

“ It is peculiar,” he half muttered, “ how an 
empty house can get on one’s nerves, and thus cloud 
one’s brain. Of course, knowing that her husband 
was dead, she brought these trunks when she came 
here Monday, with the laudable intention of cram- 
ming them with articles she means to remove before 
the remaining contents of the house are sold, or the 
place is let furnished.” 

He next gave his attention to a writing table. 

68 


Suicide — or Murder? 


Some clean blotting paper caught his eye, and he 
examined it. The uppermost sheet had been torn 
off, and he had already noted a quantity of burnt 
paper in the grate. 

He grinned, with the appreciation of an expert. 
A first-rate adventuress of the Mrs. Delamar type 
knew better than to leave the impressions of ad- 
dressed envelopes and scraps of her correspondence 
to be read in a mirror by any inquisitive servant — 
not to mention a detective ! 

Nevertheless, he picked out of the grate two among 
a great many stumps of cigarettes. They were all 
of the same brand as those found in the cutter. 

He opened wardrobes and drawers ; but they con- 
tained only a litter of discarded garments, dresses 
of bygone fashion, old hats, faded ribbons, and the 
like. At any rate, it was evident that this particu- 
lar room had always been regarded as Mrs. Kyrle’s 
private apartment, and, in view of the strained re- 
lations between her husband and herself, the fact 
was somewhat peculiar. 

Passing into the dead man’s study, he found evi- 
dence in plenty of scholarly tastes and habits. A 
Greek lexicon lay open on the table, a number of 
commentaries on the Gospels were piled on table 
and floor, and a well-filled pipe-rack explained the 
lingering and pungent smell of tobacco. Oddly 
enough, there was no sign of a cigarette, whereas a 
tobacco- jar on the mantelpiece contained a quantity 
of a rather fragrant mixture. Clancy promptly 

69 


No Other Way 

appropriated some part of the jar’s contents. The 
brand, at least, could be identified, and that might 
lead to discovery of the store that supplied it. In- 
deed, before night came, the detective had learned 
that Kyrle bought his weed locally, and never smoked 
cigarettes. 

He picked up a waste-paper basket, cleared a 
space on the table, and began a detailed scrutiny 
of the scraps of paper that nearly filled it. There 
were circulars, torn letters, bills, roughly jotted 
memoranda as to the meanings of certain Greek and 
Hebrew words (a few of these Clancy retained, as 
he believed they were in the dead man’s handwriting), 
and other odds and ends ; but nothing of any real 
significance. 

In the neighboring bedroom the detective’s close 
search was equally fruitless. Beyond the small mat- 
ter of the cigarettes, he had to confess that he had 
advanced not an inch in his investigation. He was 
standing in the gallery that ran round the hall, when 
a queer noise of scraping and rattling sounded 
among the boards at his feet, and instantly the dead 
echoes of the house awoke to the loud peal of a bell. 

Clancy was startled. He would be the last to 
deny it. For an instant his heart stood still, and 
his wrinkled face assumed an ivory tint. He was 
never ashamed of betraying fear or emotion of any 
kind, because he held that the man who said he did 
not know the meaning of fear must be either an 
exceptional person or a fool. Moreover, he was 
70 


Suicide — or Murder? 

proud of his imaginative faculties ; for, without them, 
he could never have attained his remarkable celebrity 
in his profession. 

So he shook now visibly for a second or two, and 
was still pale when he began to chuckle at the trick 
his excitable nerves had played him. 

“ It was that confounded wire moving along the 
walls and passage that upset me,” he growled. “ The 
clang of a bell is not mysterious in itself, because 
someone has pulled it, just as I did; but I was not 
ready for the wire.” 

Then, stealing on noiseless feet to a window of 
one of the front rooms, he peeped out. A policeman 
in uniform was standing on the stretch of gravel 
in front of the door. He had taken off his helmet, 
because the weather was warm and he had evidently 
been walking fast. His forehead was bald and 
domelike, and glistened with perspiration, and he 
was trying to fan himself with the helmet. 

“Why doesn’t the idiot use a handkerchief?” 
growled Clancy. “ Surely he has one — a red one, 
for choice. But why has he come bothering here? 
Someone has sent him. Who? If I cannot answer 
that question before I come on him unaware from 
behind that hedge, I shall feel that I am losing 
my grip.” 


71 


CHAPTER V 


SHOWING HOW MRS. DELAMAR RECEIVED A SHOCK 

He sped swiftly and quietly down the steps, across 
the hall, along a passage, and through the kitchen 
and scullery. With the deftness of a professional 
burglar, he let himself out through the window with- 
out making any sound that could possibly reach the 
front of the house. Running stealthily on tiptoe 
until he was about to emerge from the hedge-lined 
path, he suddenly changed his pace to a leisurely 
stroll. Thus, when the policeman first heard and 
saw him, he appeared to have sauntered casually 
from out of that part of the garden. 

Then he smiled. The man was mopping his head 
with a large and vividly scarlet handkerchief. 

“ Hello ! ” said Clancy genially. 

“ Would ye moind tellin’ me yer name, sorr? ” 
said the policeman. 

“ Clancy. Have you brought a message from 
Mr. Steingall? ” 

“ Well, if that don’t bate the band ! ” gasped the 
other. 

“ I’m a daisy at guessing,” cackled the detec- 
tive. 

“ But, sorr, you would hardly belave what a bother 

72 


How Mrs . Delamar Received a Shock 


it has been to foind you. Ye were ’phoned for at 
Atlantic City an’ Philadelphia from New Yark, and 
then we were rung up ; but the divil a one had seen 
you in Absecon, only the gintleman in New Yark 
insisted that you must be here. So here I am. 
Still, it’s quare you should know it at wanst.” 

“ Well, and what does the gentleman in New York 
want ? ” 

44 He wants to have a talk with you, sorr. Will 
you plaze come wid me an’ give him a call? ” 

44 Certainly. He told you my name, of course.” 

44 Yiss, sorr.” 

44 And did he describe me? ” 

The policeman looked into his helmet as though 
he half expected to discover some cabalistic symbol 
in its lining that had not been there previously. 
Then he put it on. 44 The gintleman axed me to 
hurry, sorr. May I ax if he was the chief of the 
bureau? ” 

44 Come, now, how did he describe me? Did he say 
I was a little bit of a chap? ” 

44 His exact wurrds, sorr.” 

44 With a funny face, and big ears?” 

The policeman coughed discreetly. 

44 Of course he could hardly fail to mention my 
principal attractions,” went on Clancy dryly. 
44 Well, it would be a pity if you did not carry away 
a mental picture of the renowned sleuth at the other 
end of the wire. He looks like a pugilistic barkeep ; 
he walks like an elephant ; he always has a cigar 
73 


No Other Way 

tucked in a corner of his mouth; and he thinks he 
can grow sweet peas in a Brooklyn back yard.” 

Then Clancy condescended to give his attention to 
business, and during the walk into Absecon extracted 
some scraps of information as to the habits of the 
late Mr. Kyrle, in so far as the policeman was ac- 
quainted with them. 

The man, it seemed, had been a complete recluse 
for five years. His only form of amusement and 
exercise was sailing the cutter, in which he was quite 
proficient, though he nearly always chose a night tide 
for his cruises. Mrs. Kyrle was a rare visitor — she 
had come to Absecon perhaps four times, in all. 
Neither of the servants at “ The Rosery ” would dis- 
cuss master or mistress with other people. Mary 
Mallow was a stranger in the district, and Hopkins 
had evidently been given to understand that the 
first hint of gossip that reached his employer’s ears 
would cost him his situation. He was utilized for 
running errands and doing chores rather than gar- 
dening. No tradesman was allowed to come near 
the house. Even the postman was invariably met 
by Hopkins at the gate, and would there hand over 
letters and parcels, if any. 

“ Never any visitors, I suppose? ” said Clancy, 
when his companion had no more to say of Kyrle. 

“ None that I know of, sorr.” 

“ Is the house rented, or leased, or do they own 
it?” 

“ I’ve been tould that Mr. Kyrle bought it from 

74 


How Mrs. Delamar Received a Shock 


the gintleman who laid out the garden. I’m a bit of 
a gardener meself, and it’s a sin and a shame to 
see the way that place has been spoiled. Did you 
say, sorr, that Mr. Steingall was keen on sweet 
peas ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

44 And why can’t he grow ’em ? ” 

“ Because they don’t thrive on the carbondioxid 
they get in a town.” 

44 Then why give it to ’em, sorr? Belave me, it’s 
as aisy — ” and the policeman launched into an elo- 
quent description of the right way in which to cul- 
tivate Lathyrus odoratus ; though he did not so mis- 
call a pretty flower* any more than he recognized 
carbondioxid as a constituent of city air. 

If Clancy had received a shock when the bell jarred 
the silence of the deserted house, he experienced a 
worse one at the telephone. He knew instantly by 
the seriousness in Steingall’s voice that something 
quite out of the common had happened. 

44 This business has taken a nasty turn,” said the 
chief. 44 1 cannot say much over the wire, for obvious 
reasons ; but a diary has come to hand, and you 
ought to see it at once. Where shall I send it, so 
as to reach you to-morrow morning? ” 

44 Care of police station-house, Absecon,” said 
Clancy. 

44 Oh, you mean to remain there? I fancy you are 
right. You will understand better when you have 
read certain passages. By the way, I’ve had a nice 
75 


No Other Way 

old hunt after you. I don’t think there is another 
man in the bureau who would have been so positive 
as to your whereabouts.” 

“ The local cop had no difficulty in identifying 
me. Your description was lucid to a degree.” 

44 You don’t mean to say — ” 

44 Oh, yes. I wormed it out of him. Big ears, 
have I? ” 

44 Well, accuracy is often painful. Perhaps he 
recognized you by your Irish name. His accent is 
the sure thing. When did he land? ” 

44 Ah, if only you knew his opinion of you as a 
grower of sweet peas ! But listen a moment. It has 
been established that the real agent was nicotine 
crystals. Of course, I promptly shut down all pub- 
lic reference till later.” 

He heard Steingall’s whistle of comprehension. 
A moment later came the guarded words: 

44 Evidently you must stop where you are. As 
usual, you have hit on the right place. You will 
understand fully in the morning. Meanwhile, send 
me a line. Let me hear if you want help. Good-by.” 

In a small community like that at Absecon, it was 
impossible for a hue and cry to be raised about 
Clancy by telephone without more persons than the 
police being able to form a shrewd estimate as to 
his profession, and it was no part of the scheme 
slowly taking shape in his brain that his presence 
in the neighborhood should be an open secret. 

His natural ally, the policeman, explained the ins 


! How Mrs . Delamar Received a Shock 

and outs of the local train service, complicated, as 
it is, by a ferry, and promised to carry out certain 
instructions later in the evening; so Clancy went to 
the ferry, and, after making the acquaintance of a 
ticket examiner, lounged about the waterfront until 
the arrival of a boat from Atlantic City in which, 
if he had calculated aright, Mrs. Delamar (to use 
the name by which she was generally known) would 
travel to Absecon. He believed that when the in- 
quest was adjourned she would arrange for the 
burial of her husband’s body on Friday, and, true 
to her pose as a grief-stricken wife, would attend 
it. But she would feel safer from prying eyes at 
“ The Rosery ” than in Atlantic City, and would 
probably return to the latter place early on the day 
of the funeral. Then, if affairs at Absecon were 
closed satisfactorily, she would go straight to New 
York by the night express. 

Whether or not Mrs. Delamar was responsible for 
the death of the unhappy man whose name she re- 
fused to bear, the detective could not form a clear 
opinion. But, in many aspects, she was of the crim- 
inal class, and Clancy had an extraordinary genius 
for projecting himself into the mind of such a woman, 
and thus forecasting her actions under certain given 
conditions. 

“ There,” he said to the ticket examiner, when 
Mrs. Delamar stepped ashore on to a dimly lighted 
landing stage, “ is that the lady to whom you spoke 
last Tuesday week? ” 


77 


No Other Way 

“ That’s her,” said the man. “ I could swear to 
her among a thousand — by her walk, and general 
get-up, I mean, because I couldn’t see her face.” 

“ And you are quite sure she did not go to New 
York that evening? ” 

“ Why, sir, how could she, when she went back to 
Atlantic City, and passed through here again this 
day week? ” 

“You are positive about the dates?” 

“ I can’t help being positive, sir. By mistake, 
she gave up an out-of-date round trip ticket, and 
paid the fare for a single journey.” 

“ There may be nothing in the matter, or it may 
be very important. At any rate, I shall see that an 
official letter is sent from the bureau to your 
boss complimenting you on your attention to de- 
tail.” 

“ It’s very good of you, sir,” said the gratified 
ticket man. “ May I ask who the lady is, and why 
you are interested in her movements? ” 

“ I shall tell you that subsequently. But say no 
word of my inquiry to anyone. She went into the 
town, and remained there a couple of hours — is 
that correct ? ” 

“ To a minute. There are just two hours and 
ten minutes between the boats, and, if you allow five 
minutes for the stroll into the town — why, there you 
have it.” 

To those unacquainted with the geography of 
that part of New Jersey it should be explained that 
78 


How Mrs . Delamar Received a Shock 

Absecon may be approached from Atlantic City 
either by rail or by a ferry across the channel that 
shuts off the larger town from the mainland, and 
the two places are some five miles apart. 

Clancy, who had already unearthed the sinister 
fact that Mrs. Delamar, instead of traveling to New 
York before her husband’s disappearance, had actu- 
ally gone there after it, meant to follow up the trail 
at Atlantic City next day. He took no great credit 
to himself for the discovery. He was in Absecon 
for the purpose of shadowing Mrs. Delamar if she 
returned to “ The Rosery,” and his chat with the 
ticket agent was a matter of pure chance. 

But, in laying bare a mystery, chance sometimes 
helps a detective, and sometimes balks him. This 
was an occasion when it had carried the inquiry a 
league in a single stride. “ Chance,” it has been well 
said, “ assists him who is prepared for it.” 

Still, Clancy did not jump at conclusions. Mrs. 
Delamar was a clever woman, and if she was en- 
gaged in a plot against her husband’s life it was 
almost ridiculous to suppose that she would go out 
of her way to manufacture evidence against herself 
in the matter of the ticket and the unusual double 
journey. 

When waiting at the ferry he had written to 
Steingall : 

Of course, I await the diary (Kyrle’s, I suppose) with bated 
breath. But the man was a crank, and, whether alive or dead, 
cranks are apt to be unusual. Thus far, the only link con- 

79 


No Other Way 

necting the woman with the man’s death is the presence in the 
boat of cigarettes that, presumably, she alone smokes. Just 
now they impress me as being a trifle too obvious. 

After watching the arrival of Mrs. Delamar and 
her servants, he scribbled a note, detailing his later 
investigations ; but he added no comment. This was 
an odd circumstance in itself, because Clancy loved 
to theorize in such a safe ear as Steingall’s. 

Avoiding the ferry road, by which the passengers 
were making for the town, Clancy attended a rendez- 
vous higher up the channel, where the policeman, 
now in mufti, awaited him with a boat. 

It was a perfect night of early summer ; silence 
and its twin sister, peace, brooded over the waters. 
A few stars were blinking in a violet sky, and a 
slight haze rising from the smooth sea tinted the low 
sandhills with a deep maroon, through which the 
lighted windows of dwellings shone dimly. Suddenly, 
as it were, the impressionable Gallic Celt found him- 
self in sympathy with the unhappy recluse who had 
sought forgetfulness in sailing by night on this 
secluded back-water. 

But the mood passed as the boat neared “ The 
Rosery.” His mind was busy with the why and 
wherefore of a quest that must either justify itself 
within a few hours or be abandoned as a useless 
waste of energy on the part of the Detective Bureau. 

In the shadow of the gaunt boatshed and its 
guardian trees the darkness was intense; but the 
prosaic policeman backed the skiff into what seemed 
80 


How Mrs. Delcimar Received a Shock 

to be a black and impenetrable wall, for the tide 
was at the top of the flood, and the boatshed had 
become a floating wharf. 

“ If ye put yer hand out now, sorr,” he whispered, 
“ ye will find a sort of landing place, with a mooring 
ring about a foot or so from the edge. It will scare 
the birrds if we light a match ; though that wouldn’t 
matther a dale, because none of the people can have 
reached the house yet.” 

Clancy, however, preferred to grope about until he 
had found the ring. He climbed out, sought for his 
companion’s hand, and took a small rope with which 
he made the boat fast. Then the other joined him, 
and they crept along a path until they stood among 
the dense undergrowth within a few feet of the sea- 
ward front of the house, and separated from it by 
a narrow strip of lawn. There was some rustling 
in the trees overhead; but the two men moved so 
quietly that never a roosting bird was disturbed. 

The detective’s object in watching the exterior of 
the dwelling was simple enough. This was the in- 
habited side, and he wished to learn, if only by in- 
ference, whether or not Mrs. Delamar would conduct 
herself in a normal manner. She must be weary 
after the strain of a long day. Would she retire to 
her room as quickly as possible, or would she keep 
an uneasy vigil till dawn? If the latter, what form 
would her restlessness take? A good deal depended 
on this small issue. If Mrs. Delamar went to bed 
and composed herself to sleep within the next half- 
81 


No Other Way 

hour, Clancy would have added difficulty in believing 
that she was tortured by the memory of a crime. 
He laid stress on such trivialities as these. He would 
say to Steingall in an expansive moment: 

“ Let me watch any suspected man or woman for 
an hour while they believe themselves alone and un- 
seen, and I will tell you positively whether they are 
guilty or innocent. Of course, they must not know 
they are suspected, because suspicion may torture 
the innocent far more than the guilty. It is the 
workings of conscience I want to see, not the anguish 
of innocence unjustly accused.” 

Yet, not all his wide experience prepared him for 
the incidents he was destined to witness that night. 
If not unique, — because stranger things have hap- 
pened, — they were new to Clancy, and he would 
scarce have credited the story if it came to him only 
by hearsay. 

The watchers had not long to wait. Though the 
boat had gone straight to “ The Rosery,” the cab 
that brought Mrs. Delamar and the servants from 
the ferry had soon covered the tortuous road that 
skirted the scattered buildings of Absecon, and then 
descended again to the water’s edge. 

The vehicle stopped at the gate. They heard it 
drive off, steps sounded on the carriageway, a key 
rattled, and soon a lamp was lighted in the dining- 
room. 

An angular, hard-featured woman drew the 
blinds. 


82 


How Mrs . Delamar Received a Shock 

“ That’s Mary Mallow, the housekeeper,” whis- 
pered the policeman. 

“ A dark night suits her style of beauty,” said 
Clancy, and the other man chuckled; for this bit 
of sarcasm was intended to come within his com- 
prehension. 

Soon a light glimmered in the larder, and it was 
reasonable to suppose that a meal was being impro- 
vised. Mrs. Delamar had evidently gone straight to 
her bedroom ; for a candle threw a mild beam through 
its windows into the darkness. The watchers could 
see her head and shoulders as she passed to and fro 
while removing her hat and wraps. Then she went 
downstairs again, undoubtedly to the dining-room ; 
but, to make sure, Clancy stole across the lawn, and 
screwed an eye through a chink in the blind. 

Fortunately, Mrs. Delamar had seated herself in 
front of the best available opening. She was in pro- 
file ; but her face was lighted by the lamp, and it 
was easy to see that Black Care was her vis-a-vis 
in a perfunctory feast. She tried to eat a breast 
of chicken and some dainty slices of ham. The fare 
looked appetizing enough ; but she soon pushed away 
the plate, and nibbled a crust of bread while sipping 
some claret. 

Taking a letter from her pocket, she read it, evi- 
dently not for the first time, and she was thinking 
so deeply that some of her really remarkable beauty 
fled, and left her cold, calculating, almost repel- 
lent. 


83 


No Other Way 

At last, abandoning the pretense of eating, she 
rose, crumpled up the letter in one hand, and carried 
the lamp in the other into the drawing-room. She 
went to a writing-table, and was seemingly far too 
intent on her present purpose to bother about the 
blinds, so that a small area of the lawn was faintly 
illuminated through , three French windows that 
opened on to a veranda. Clancy thought it advis- 
able to rejoin his companion, which he succeeded in 
doing by making a detour. Again there were some 
nervous rustlings and flutterings high up in the 
trees. The birds perched there probably saw him, 
and they surely heard him. 

Mrs. Delamar wrote, and wrote. She covered 
page after page of notepaper, often consulting the 
letter produced in the dining-room, and beginning 
again after pondering some new passage. Mary 
Mallow came in ; but was promptly sent off. At last, 
after writing for nearly an hour, Mrs. Delamar 
addressed an envelope, and, picking up the eight or 
nine sheets of the letter, began to read what she had 
written, thereby proving herself a more careful cor- 
respondent than the majority of her sex. 

At that moment a tug snorted its way down the 
channel, and the policeman, who wondered what mo- 
tive could inspire this queer little New York detective 
in watching a woman writing a letter, joggled 
Clancy’s arm. 

“ ’Tis shallow wather hereabouts, an’ the tide will 
be failin’ a bit, sorr,” he muttered. “ I had betther 
84 


How Mrs . Delamar Received a Shock 

go and pay out the painter, or our boat ’ll be left 
high and dhry, and it’ll be a job gettin’ her off.” 

“ I am sorry to keep you waiting,” said Clancy, 
“ but I must remain here until the lady retires. I 
cannot explain things to you now ; but all this helps. 
I do not think we shall be here much longer. Any- 
how, see to your boat.” 

The policeman moved away. It was possible that 
he was somewhat tired, and that his limbs had 
stiffened. Be that as it may, he stumbled over a 
tree root, and a dry branch cracked under his feet. 
Instantly an ear-splitting screech came from some 
point in the dark pall above their heads, a cry so 
hideously unexpected and appallingly near that the 
blood seemed to freeze in Clancy’s veins. 

It reached Mrs. Delamar’s ears, too ; indeed, it 
could hardly fail to do that, since it must have been 
audible far out on the surface of the sea channel. 
She sprang to her feet, her face twisted with horror 
and uncertainty; but, with rare courage, rushed to 
a window, threw it open, and peered out. 

“ Who is there ? ” she said, and Clancy, despite 
his own sweat of fear and total lack of recognition 
of the source of that unnerving din, felt a subcon- 
scious admiration for the dauntless spirit of a woman 
who dared even inquire into its cause. 

The policeman, who had not gone a yard, re- 
mained stock still, and so did Clancy. The silence 
was profound, the only sounds being the diminished 
snorts of the tug’s exhaust, and these served rather 
85 




No Other Way 

to enhance the absolute stillness that reigned in the 
grounds of “ The Rosery.” Then there was the click 
of a latch and Mary Mallow and the gardener came 
out at the side of the house; though shut off from 
sight of the lawn by one of the many tall hedges that 
converted the place into a leafy maze. 

Gaining confidence from the nearness of the serv- 
ants, Mrs. Delamar advanced a few paces into the 
open. 

“ Hopkins,” she began, “ did you hear — ” 

Then something swooped at her out of the void, 
and she was attacked so fiercely from the air that 
she screamed in quick terror and cowered to the 
earth. 

“ Oh, Heaven have mercy ! ” she sobbed. “ Help ! 
Help ! Ah, have pity ! I am not fit to die ! ” 

Someone crashed through the laurels, and a man’s 
form appeared. He carried a heavy stick, and smote 
fiercely at an object that whirled and fluttered above 
the woman’s head. With one blow, which got home, 
the assailant was vanquished. 

“ Don’t you be scared, ma’am,” he cried. “ It’s 
an owl, that’s what it is. I hope it hasn’t hurt 
you.” 

There was no answer ; Mrs. Delamar had fainted. 

The gardener called to the frightened house- 
keeper, “ Come here, Mary. Here’s Madam in a 
faint. She was battered by an owl; but it’ll not 
trouble you. I’ve laid it out, the varmint ! ” 

Between them, they carried Mrs. Delamar into 

86 


How Mrs . Delamar Received a Shock 


the house, and Clancy, as in a dream, heard them 
deciding to take her to the bedroom, where Mary 
Mallow could more easily apply the simple restora- 
tives known to every woman in an emergency of this 
nature. 

He was roused, and considerably startled, by a 
hand being laid on his shoulder. 

“ Now, who’d ha’ thought an owl would kick up a 
divvil of a row loike that? ” said the policeman, to 
whom the hoot of night’s woodland beldame was no 
new thing; though he had never before known the 
bird to attack a human being. 

“ It must ha’ bin worried by us dodgin’ in and 
out among the threes,” he went on, happily oblivious 
of the fact that Clancy was nearly as shaken as the 
woman who had just been beaten by the creature’s 
wings and probably scratched by its claws. “ It 
made me jump, when it let out that yell, though I 
knew in a flash what it was. Av coorse, it was 
dazed by the light, an’ hardly knew what it was 
doin’ when it set about her. Holy war ! she must 
ha’ fancied that Ould Nick hisself, wid hoof an’ 
horns, had flown at her.” 

The man’s homely accents supplied the best of all 
tonics. With each passing second Clancy regained 
better control of his scattered wits, and now he saw 
that once more chance had befriended him. 

“ Don’t go ! ” he hissed. “ Wait here till I re- 
turn.” 

He ran straight to the open window, and heard 

87 


No Other Way 

Hopkins and the housekeeper straining up the stairs 
with their inanimate burden. With silent haste he 
crossed the room to the writing-table. The letter 
that Mrs. Delamar had consulted so earnestly, lay 
there. He snatched it up, and read the address, — 
the hotel at Narragansett Pier at which Claude 
Waverton had stayed! It was signed with a hiero- 
glyph of initials ; but a glance at the envelope ad- 
dressed for reply showed that the writer could have 
been none other than John Stratton Tearle. 

With devouring eyes he extracted some sense of 
its purport. It described the rescue of the child, 
and one sentence bit into Clancy’s brain, “ You may 
be quite certain that if this extraordinary accident 
had brought them together again, it would have 
spoiled everything.” 

Many times did the writer harp on “ the narrow 
escape,” the “ luck ” of Waverton’s early adventure, 
and the “ singular change in the man — he seemed 
to be quite a reformed character.” 

Before the letter closed it was evident that Tearle 
had read of Kyrle’s death ; but on this topic he was 
not so outspoken. “ I have just seen a report in 
the paper,” he wrote. “ Of course, things are going 
well for us, but I leave congratulations and inquiries 
till we meet.” 

A door was thrown open above, and Clancy real- 
ized that he must hurry. He was greatly tempted 
to stuff Mrs. Delamar’s voluminous missive into his 
pocket, but forebore. Such a proceeding would not 
88 


How Mrs . Delamar Received a Shock 


only be wholly unwarrantable, a drawback that would 
not have weighed with him for an instant, but it 
might also prove a real blunder, because Mrs. Del- 
amar’s first sentient thought must travel to her 
precious correspondence. If the letter was missing, 
it would need more than a bewildered owl to account 
for its disappearance. 

So he skimmed a few pages with lightning speed. 
They told of the inquest, of her journeys, of the 
anxiety with which she was consumed. “ Fortu- 
nately,” ran one phrase, “ I had left Absecon for 
New York before my husband went away in the 
cutter for the last time.” Another, “ We had a 
wretched scene on the Monday.” A third, “ For 
once I was really afraid ; but I stuck to my guns.” 
And the last, for the stairs were creaking under a 
heavy descending step, “ Oh, what a relief it is to 
wake and know that I am free! Now I can act 
openly. Before, there was always the dread of dis- 
covery and the impossibility of taking a decisive 
plunge.” 

Clancy flitted out like a ghost, just as Hopkins 
reached the hall. In fact, he was not sure the man 
had not seen him, until the absence of any outcry 
showed that pursuit was not to be feared in that 
quarter. 

In the center of the lawn his foot touched the 
dead body of the owl. He would have liked to carry 
it away as a trophy, just to convince Steingall; but 
again resisted his first impulse, because its discovery 

89 


No Other Way 

next morning would allay any suspicion of the pres- 
ence of other intruders. 

“ Where are you? ” he whispered, halting in front 
of the black wall of foliage, and a hand was stretched 
forth to guide him. 

They managed to reach the boatshed without 
arousing any other inhabitants of the trees, and the 
policeman, who was skilled in the management of a 
boat, used the leverage of an oar to push off into 
deep water ; for the craft was not quite afloat, owing 
to the fall of the tide. 

“ Well,” said the man, when they had dropped a 
good way down channel, “ that was a quare go, Mr. 
Clancy, wasn’t it? ” 

“ I have seldom known a quarer,” agreed Clancy. 

“ An’ just because that blessed owl flew at her, 
she said she wasn’t fit to die,” went on the other in 
awed tones. 

“ People often say that when they really mean 
that they are not fit to live,” said Clancy, and the 
policeman, glancing over his shoulder to ascertain 
his direction, remarked that some folk were quare, 
they were. 


90 


CHAPTER VI 


THE CHIEF TAKES A HAND IN THE GAME 

Clancy’s first care on reaching the policeman’s 
home was to copy into his notebook every syllable 
he could remember of the contents of the two letters 
scanned under such singular conditions. Then he 
went to the comfortable bedroom kindly placed at 
his disposal, and was sound asleep in five minutes. 

Next morning came a registered package ad- 
dressed in Steingall’s handwriting. Within was a 
book, bound in vellum, and fitted with a lock and 
key ; a note from the chief accompanied it. This 
ran : 

My Dear Clancy. — Inside the cover of the inclosed diary 
you will find two letters, — one dated the first inst., from 
Kyrle to his friend, Leon Anthony, M.A., professor of Hebrew 
at Harvard University; the other, of yesterday’s date, from 
Professor Anthony to the Commissioner of Police, New York. 
I have skimmed through the diary, and have jotted down on 
a separate slip some of the pages in which occur passages 
bearing on your present inquiry. If, after weighing the facts 
carefully, you think fit to turn over the whole affair to the 
New Jersey authorities (who will, of course, arrest “ Mrs. 
Delamar” forthwith on the capital charge), you have my 
sanction for adopting this course. You may, however, have 
some reason for holding your hand at the moment; so I leave 
you full liberty of action. Naturally, the statements in the 
diary are not evidence, save in regard to proof of motive, and 

91 


No Other Way 

perhaps of intent. Other items, of which I am ignorant, may 
have come to light locally, and it may be necessary to effect 
an arrest at once. But the actual decision I leave to you. 
Ring me up later in the day. I am interested in this case. 
It has features out of the common. Yours, J. L. S. 

“ Name of a good little gray man ! ” murmured 
Clancy, who swore in French, if at all, 44 I may still 
be able to secure that owl and have it stuffed. If 
it figures as a witness, it ought to provide the lawyers 
with a series of sparkling jokes.” 

He was reading the letter in his bedroom, and had 
just settled down in a comfortable armchair, with 
his back to the light, when a knock at the door 
heralded the appearance of his ally of the previous 
night. The man was carrying a dead screech owl, a 
magnificent specimen, unusually large, and with 
44 spectacles ” remarkably well indicated. 

44 I thought ye’d loike to have this, sorr,” came 
the grinning explanation. 

Somehow, the detective credited his friend with a 
large amount of commonsense; so he repressed the 
first angry question that rose to his lips. 

44 How did you get hold of it ? ” he asked. 

44 Simplest thing in the wurrld, sorr. Sthrollin’ 
along the lane opposite 4 The Rosery,’ I meets Hop- 
kins, an’ he ups an’ tells me all about last night’s 
affair, or all that he knew, at any rate. I said, 
4 Well, that’s quare. What have you done wid the 
bird? ’ — 4 Mrs. Kyrle ordered me to throw it away. 
She hated the sight of it,’ says he. 4 Give it me,’ 

92 


The Chief Takes a Hand in the Game 

says I. 4 I’d loike to show it to my kiddies.’ So 
here it is.” 

“ I am very much obliged to you. Is the lady 
any the worse for her fright? ” 

44 Not a bit, Hopkins says. She kep’ the claws 
off her face; but her arrms were scratched, an’ her 
dress was torn. She soon recovered, though, an’ 
made so little of the faintin’ fit that she went down- 
stairs again.” 

44 1 thought she would,” said Clancy dryly. Then, 
with the hapless owl lying on a table before his eyes, 
he unlocked the diary. 

The first letter, that from Kyrle to the Harvard 
professor, struck a tragic note at the outset: 

My Dear Anthony. — I am sending you a diary which I 
have kept intermittently during some years, — nearly six, to 
be exact, seeing that it was begun a year after my marriage 
to Josephine Delamar, daughter of the late Gulielmo Delamar, 
cotton merchant, of New Orleans. I met her in Paris, and 
was fool enough to be fascinated by her beauty and charm 
of manner, though all my knowledge of life should have 
warned me against marrying a woman — or a girl, as she was 
then — whose exotic nature could not fail to rebel against the 
conventions and seeming narrowness of an American middle- 
class home. Some of my subsequent sufferings are depicted 
in the diary; so I shall not enlarge on them now. 

My present object in making you the book’s custodian is this: 
I think I am near death. I am not ill, nor suffering from 
any organic disease which may suddenly become active. No; 
if I believed in second sight, or other such owlish forebodings, 
I should fancy I had been given a warning. It is a hard 
thing to say; but I know that my wife desires my death, 
because I have steadily refused to divorce her. I may be 
wrong, horribly mistaken, as a misanthropist (which I have 

93 


No Other Way 

become) is apt to be. If I am in error, I have atoned for 
my blunder by making a will that leaves her in full possession 
of all my property. 

But — and now I reach the object I have at heart — should 
you hear of my death in suspicious circumstances, or in cir- 
cumstances which, though not suspicious, point to accident or 
extraordinary suddenness, I want you to send this letter and 
the diary to the authorities. That is all. An official investiga- 
tion of the nature and cause of my demise will follow in due 
course, and my wife may be fully exonerated, which is my 
sincere wish. 

I am sure I can depend on you in this. Provided I am the 
mere victim of a hallucination, I shall write on other matters 
as usual. 

Believe me. Sincerely, 

Herbert W. Kyrle. 


Clancy, an impressionist if ever there was one, 
had glanced once at the dead bird when he read. 
When he had made an end, he gazed at the heap of 
rumpled feathers for some seconds. 

The second letter was the outcome of the worthy 
professor’s grief and astonishment at hearing of his 
friend’s death. He explained that he did not read 
the newspapers regularly, and had been inclined to 
look on the depositing of the diary as a freak on 
the part of his old crony and correspondent, Herbert 
Widlake Kyrle, until the news of the discovery of 
Kyrle’s body in an open boat on the high seas 
reached him in conversation at a luncheon party. 
He thought it his duty then to fulfill instantly the 
sad task imposed on him ; though he hoped and be- 
lieved that Kyrle’s peculiar state of mind alone had 
led to this curious bequest. The man had always 

94 


The Chief Takes a Hand in the Game 

been slightly eccentric, and there were not lacking 
signs, during later years, of a morbidness of thought 
rendered pungent though hardly lightened by a sar- 
donic humor. 

“ Very well put, my excellent professor,” com- 
mented Clancy. 44 1 don’t know anything about 
Hebrew ; but if you explain its difficulties as clearly 
as you have summed up Kyrle, I am willing to take 
jmur say-so on the Moabite Stone.” 

Then he plunged into the diary. 

As a record of a scholar’s broken life it was of 
supreme interest ; but its discursive comments on 
events, though of some literary value, would be out 
of place in a narrative dealing with the careers of 
several people who had never so much as heard the 
writer’s name. 

Clancy’s summary of its contents is more to the 
point; since he took pains to state his exact views 
thereon in a letter to Steingall, the passage in ques- 
tion may be extracted: 


Kyrle appears to have been a wealthy man, with leanings 
toward classical research, both in the way of clearing up rival 
texts of ancient documents and, when young, in the exploration 
of Egyptian and Jewish monuments. He was returning to the 
States after a long spell of work in Palestine, when he met 
Josephine Delamar, and, as he himself puts it, the atmosphere 
of Paris intoxicated him. Possibly its wine helped; for I 
find many later references to various vintages as being “help- 
ful in banishing that black dog, Care.” At any rate, he mar- 
ried Josephine because she was “beautiful and vivacious,” as 
good reasons as any for the folly of matrimony, and, of 

95 


No Other Way 

course, she resented the idea of burying her charms among 
frayed manuscripts and weatherworn stones. 

Within a year she had demanded liberty and an allowance. 
Singularly enough, Kyrle seems to have granted both with 
some alacrity. He fancied he could go back to his interrupted 
studies with renewed zest; but was only partly successful. 
Every now and then he missed the presence of his wife, and 
these fits of depression of which he makes frequent complaint 
were invariably induced by some paragraph in the newspapers 
alluding to her. 

At last, when “ Mrs. Delamar ” was anxious to establish 
herself in a different set, I suppose, she began to press for a 
complete divorce — on terms, for she needed money. From 
covert hints she passed to open disclosures, but always ver- 
bally, during her rare visits to “ The Rosery.” In this matter, 
however, his refusal to fall in with her wishes was consistent. 
In his diary he says, over and over again, “ I have yoked myself 
to a jezebel, a brazen woman, an adventuress of the worst 
type, and I shall pay the penalty of my crass stupidity by 
declining to set her free with plenty of means to play her 
dangerous arts on some other ninny. . . . She may entrap a 
fool; but she cannot enslave him for life while she remains 
my legal spouse, ... I have tied a millstone round my neck. 
Very well, let it strangle me: I shall not undo the knot.” 

At last, the lady’s pleading turned to threats, according to 
Kyrle’s version, and these assumed an alarming aspect during 
the visit that ended in his death. She stated, in so many 
words, that she could now compel Claude Waverton to marry 
her; that her life had been “wasted” by Kyrle; that she was 
resolved to end the bondage; and that she might in her frenzy 
resort to desperate measures. He says he was afraid of her. 
Somehow, I don’t quite credit it. 

All this, of course, you have read. I am just tabulating my 
own expressions here, and it will be valuable to learn how far 
they agree with or differ from yours. I must add instantly 
that Mrs. Delamar’s account of the final argument (as shown 
by the scraps of her letter to Tearle) carries the story a little 
farther. She seems to have won her point as to the divorce; 
but the threats appear to have been not entirely one-sided. 

96 


The Chief Takes a Hand in the Game 

However, she did not scruple to lie to her confederate at 
Narragansett Pier, because she traveled to New York on 
Wednesday, and not, as she tells him, on Tuesday; and who- 
soever may have been “ threatened,” it was Kyrle who died. 

At present I shall not disclose a word of the information 
I have gathered. I do not purpose seeing Mrs. Delamar or 
the servants at “ The Rosery.” In fact, after I have made 
certain inquiries here, I shall return to New York. I abso- 
lutely agree with you as to this case having “ features.” I am 
beginning to think that we are on the track of a real big thing. 
If Mrs. Delamar wanted to marry Waverton, and Tearle was 
anxious to marry Mrs. Waverton, not only was Kyrle’s death 
necessary, but the foundations of the plot were laid months 
ago, and a long way from Absecon. But more of this when 
we meet. 

I am sending the owl to the taxidermist’s place on Broadway. 
Will you kindly call there, and explain that I want it mounted 
with wings outstretched and claws extended for attack? Do 
you recall the singular use of the word “ owlish ” in Kyrle’s 
letter? Some Frenchman has a theory about human souls 
passing into the bodies of lower animals, and I fancy he 
would claim boldly that Kyrle’s spirit inhabited the owl. 
“ It’s quare, that it is,” as my local guide, philosopher, and 
friend says. I shall tell you more about him. He is only a 
country policeman ; but in his way, he is quite a “ kar-ack-ter,” 
to use his own phrase. 

The Philadelphia newspapers gave full reports 
of the inquest. They contained nothing sensational. 
The widow had mustered up courage to ask why the 
inquiry was adjourned; but the Coroner had stated 
simply that, owing to the death of a prominent in- 
habitant of Absecon under such unusual conditions, 
the authorities wished to have more time for con- 
ducting their investigations. 

“Good!” said Clancy. “Dr. Gilman and the 

97 


No Other Way 

Atlantic City police played the game. Now, I have 
nearly a clear fortnight before me, and if, within 
a week, I don’t know why Kyrle died, I shall think 
it is high time I applied for a pension.” 

But Clancy, though the shrewdest man in the 
Detective Bureau, was not omniscient, and he was 
many weeks older before he bade farewell to the 
Waverton Case and its strange side issues. 

He picked up Mrs. Delamar’s trail at Atlantic 
City readily enough. She had gone to one of the 
smaller hotels, taken a room there for the night as 
“ Mrs. Foster,” and had hardly been seen by any- 
one. The man-of-all-work remembered, however, 
that “ the lady in No. 10 ” went out about five 
o’clock in the evening, and did not return till a 
quarter to eleven. He fixed the day beyond doubt 
by the fact that the omnibus which brought her from 
the ferry collided with a motor-cyclist at the next 
corner after setting down the visitor at the hotel. 

Here, then, in addition to two hours at Absecon, 
were nearly six hours of Mrs. Delamar’s time un- 
accounted for on the evening of the day when Kyrle 
was last seen alive by credible witnesses. Absecon 
was only five miles distant — had she returned there? 
If so, and the testimony as to her movements hap- 
pened to be fairly credible, Clancy felt that he could 
hardly keep the affair from the hands of the local 
authorities. 

Perhaps he did not put forth his full powers, but, 
beyond the certainty of “ Mrs. Foster’s ” departure 
98 


The Chief Takes a Hand in the Game 

next day, he failed to find any other trace of Mrs. 
Delamar at Atlantic City. So he left that part of 
the inquiry, and took the next ferry for Absecon, 
where he was hailed by the gateman. 

“ Hello ! ” said the man. 

“ Hello ! ” said Clancy. 

“ The party you were asking about has just gone 
across, sir.” 

“ Bound for? ” 

“ Atlantic City, I suppose.” 

“ Alone?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“Excellent! You have my address. If you see 
her again, send me a line.” 

The detective’s grim thought was, “ So, Madam, 
you dared not stop in that haunted house another 
night. For all your bravado before the servants, 
you evidently found the owl a bird of ill omen. I 
wonder if you guess that other varieties of night- 
hawks might be able to read letters? No, I think 
not. But you will feel safer at Atlantic City, 
though your husband lies there in his coffin. Ah, 
well, we shall see.” 

Claude G. Waverton was an uneasy spirit. From 
Boston he went to Quebec, from Quebec to Montreal, 
and from Montreal to Toronto. He remained in 
each town only one night. On the fifth day after 
he had quitted Providence, — or, to be precise, on 
the Saturday of that same week — he announced his 
intention of returning to New York for a night and 
99 


No Other Way 

then heading straight to his summer home in the 
Adirondacks. 

“ I am almost forgetting what the place looks 
like, Rice,” he said to the valet. “ How long is it 
since we were there? ” 

“You left in October, sir,” said Rice, whose well- 
regulated face tried to conceal the pleasure with 
which he heard of his master’s sudden resolve. 

Like every other well-trained English servant, he 
turned up his nose at the methods of hotels. And 
this drove from his mind the question why his master 
did not make the short journey from Montreal to 
Lake Champlain, if he was so anxious to reach his 
country home. 

“Did we? Who was there last fall? Confound 
that rap on the head I got at Palm Beach ! Every 
now and then my recollections of people and events 
jumble together in the most extraordinary way.” 

Rice gave a list of names, and in it figured that of 
John Stratton Tearle. Waverton ticked off each 
name with a nod, until Tearle was mentioned. Then 
his face grew hard, and a queer glint came into his 
eyes. 

“ Do you remember where I picked up that ani- 
mal?” he asked. 

Now, Rice had long since recognized that Waver- 
ton was a changed man; but he was not prepared 
for this scornful repudiation of a special friend and 
crony. He did not quarrel with the later estimate 
of the man, — in fact, he agreed with it thoroughly, 
100 


The Chief Takes a Hand in the Game 

— but it gave him a shock, nevertheless, and a hand 
went cautiously to his shaved upper lip. 

“ I believe you met him in New York, Mr. Claude,” 
he said in his noncommittal way. 

“ But where, and when? Of course, I remember 
him well enough; but I cannot recall the circum- 
stances of our first acquaintance. I can’t have 
known him many years, because I believe he was in 
Arizona some considerable time.” 

“ That’s right, sir. He came back from Arizona' 
five years ago, and — and — ” 

66 Well, out with it ! ” 

“Have you forgotten your cousin, sir?” 

“ Not likely, poor chap ! That is just why I am 
wondering now why I ever took up with a scamp like 
Tearle. Of course, no one knows the exact facts, 
and my cousin’s death shut down the only source 
from which they could emerge ; but I always had 
my suspicions that Tearle could say a lot more 
about that affair than he ever disclosed, and held 
his tongue because his own share in it was dis- 
creditable.” 

Rice’s sallow face actually flushed with pleasure. 
For an instant even he, Rice, most decorous and dis- 
creet of valets, bridged the gulf that separates mas- 
ter and man. 

“ I’m very glad to hear you say that, Mr. Claude,” 
he cried eagerly. “ I always liked your namesake, 
sir. Nice, affable young gentleman he was, and I 
couldn’t believe he would ever do such things as they 

101 


No Other Way 

said about him in the newspapers. But, for all 
that, Mr. Tearle an’ you were particular friendly 
before you went to Palm Beach — particular, you 
were.” 

The valet was so unusually voluble and excited 
that he hardly noticed the shadow of disappointment 
that crossed Waverton’s face for an instant; or, if 
noticing it, he attributed it to his insistence on the 
nature of the friendship between his employer and 
the man they were discussing. 

“ If I may venture to say it, Mr. Claude,” he went 
on, “ I always thought Mr. Tearle was a bad lot. 
If it hadn’t been for him — ” 

Then there was a pause; for Rice was still ob- 
sessed by the notion Waverton might fly into one of 
those fits of ungovernable rage for which he was once 
so justly dreaded. 

“ Go on, Rice. I sha’n’t eat you,” and Waverton 
smiled; for he knew what was passing in the man’s 
mind. 

“ Well, sir, I’ll out with it. Wasn’t it that scoun-v 
drel who calls hisself a gentleman who first brought 
you in touch with Mrs. Delamar, threw ’er at your 
’ed, so to speak? Things weren’t so bad between 
Madam an’ you till ’e turned up an’ brought ’er 
along.” 

In Rice, vehemence and lack of aspirates went 
together; but Waverton only nodded, nor did he 
seem to be annoyed in the slightest degree by his 
faithful servitor’s outspokenness. Por a little while 
102 


The Chief Takes a Hand in the Game 

he remained silent, and Rice was yielding to a sub- 
dued amazement at his own temerity when his em- 
ployer’s comment showed that he had given more 
heed to the purpose underlying the valet’s words than 
to their form. 

“ Before returning to New York, Rice, I want you 
to understand one thing clearly,” he said. “ I have 
broken off entirely with the past. I made an ass of 
myself for years ; but all that has gone before is 
dead and done with, in so far as a man ever can 
ignore bygone evils. Now, I shall not be myself 
for many a long day. I do not say much about it; 
but I am subject to momentary illusions, and more 
or less serious lapses of memory are sure to occur. 
So I want you to help me. Whenever you see me 
at a loss for anything, — such, for instance, as a 
person’s name or identity, or some little incident 
that I ought to remember, and forgetfulness of which 
may hurt or annoy anyone, — just tell me about it. 
I shall never resent your assistance. If I don’t 
choose to avail myself of it, that will not be your 
fault. For instance, I cannot for the life of me 
remember where I first met this fellow Tearle.” 

“ Oh, that’s easy enough to fix, sir. You met him 
at Mrs. Hernicke’s house on the Hudson.” 

“ Ah, of course. There you are — it all comes 
back to me now. We went from there to the races 
at Sheepshead Bay. What was the horse I lost such 
a lot of money on? ” 

Rice’s face lengthened. This question touched a 

103 


No Other Way 

sore point. “ Why, Jubilation, to be sure, Mr. 
Claude — Jubilation for the Brooklyn Handicap. I 
went down a howler over that myself.” 

“ So you did. Never mind, Rice. We both are 
older and wiser, and your salary is doubled from 
to-day; so Jubilation rolls home at last. No, no 
thanks. I am going for a stroll in the park. Have 
everything ready to cross to Lewiston by the after- 
noon boat.” 

“ But, sir,” and Rice was so flustered by his good 
fortune that he could hardly frame the question. 
“ ’Ave you forgotten that if we go to New York we 
can’t very well get to 6 The Dene ’ before Mon- 
day? ” 

“ I know ; but I must go to New York — and then 
for the country. I mean to see Lake Champlain 
gleaming among the trees at the earliest possible 
moment.” 

Waverton threw an oddly determined note into 
his voice as he uttered this comparatively unimpor- 
tant resolve; and Rice, busy with the continuous 
round of packing valises that had just been emptied, 
realized that he was beginning to learn his master’s 
ways all over again. 

True, Claude Waverton was invariably in his right 
senses nowadays, and had been as invariably be- 
fuddled with drink in the past, and the difference 
between Philip drunk and Philip sober is no new 
thing; but the valet sometimes found himself almost 
wishing that his employer would take an extra glass 
104 ? 


The Chief Takes a Hand in the Game 

of champagne for dinner, if only once in a while, 
so as to dispel the uncanny fancy that possessed 
him, — that some dark magic had placed a new soul 
in the man’s body. 

On the train between Niagara and New York, 
Rice was accosted by an elderly man who occupied 
a seat in the same section. 

“ Beg pardon,” said the stranger, “ but may I ask 
who the gentleman was to whom you spoke just 
now? He is in the Pullman car behind.” 

Rice was always punctilious in such matters. 
“ That is Mr. Claude G. Waverton, and I am his 
valet,” he answered. 

“ Thank you. I only asked because I met him in 
the Rosco Market at Montreal the other day, and 
he showed an extraordinary knowledge of the French- 
Canadian patois. Surely he cannot be the — er — 
gentleman who figured in a recent divorce suit? ” 

Rice coughed. “ I don’t discuss my master’s 
affairs,” he said dryly. 

“ Oh, of course not. Pray pardon me. The 
question was not meant in any derogatory sense; 
quite the reverse.” 

After that, the conversation languished ; but each 
man was somewhat puzzled, though for widely differ- 
ent reasons. Rice knew little or nothing of the 
ways and language of French Canada ; but once upon 
a time, not so long ago, he would have matched 
his lore against Waverton’s for more money than 
he lost over Jubilation. 


105 


No Other Way 

Another small surprise awaited him in the fact 
that they went through to New York, where his 
master preferred the Ritz-Carlton Hotel to his own 
house on 64th Street. When Waverton was dress- 
ing for dinner, he said suddenly: 

“ By the way, do you happen to know if Mrs. 
Waverton is still staying at Narragansett Pier? ” 

“ I believe so, Mr. Claude.” 

A little later the other said, “ You will think me 
a weathercock, Rice, but I shall not go to Lake 
Champlain till later. I shall be engaged on business 
all day; so, if you want the day off, it is at your 
disposal.” 

“ Thank you, sir. I am very much obliged, I’m 
sure.” 

Rice had no inkling as to the nature of the business 
that took his master out of the hotel on Monday 
after an early breakfast ; but he would have been the 
most astonished man in New York that day had he 
known what really happened. 

For Waverton strolled along Fifth Avenue, turned 
into 34th Street, and entered a well-known theatrical 
costumer’s in Broadway. Here, for a fee, he was 
so excellently made up to represent a foreigner, pre- 
sumably musical, that no one who was not a past 
master in the difficult art of penetrating disguises 
could have recognized him when he reappeared in 
the street, hailed a taxi, and told the man to drive 
to the Grand Central Station. 

To save needless trouble, he had not changed trou- 
106 


The Chief Takes a Hand in the Game 

sers or boots, and, indeed, a dark wig, a flowing black 
mustache, blue spectacles, some stain on his face, a 
soft hat, and a loose-fitting alpaca coat had done 
marvels already. But Steingall, who had followed 
him from the hotel foyer, happened to be gazing 
into the shop window when Waverton came out, and 
also happened to pass the ticket office when Waver- 
ton asked for a ticket to Narragansett Pier. 

So Steingall got into the car next to that within 
which Waverton was seated. 

“ Pity Clancy couldn’t have done this ! ” he mut- 
tered. “ If it means more than a day, I shall wire 
for him, as I cannot spare the time. But it is cer- 
tainly interesting, exceedingly interesting, and 
Clancy wanted to keep an eye on Mrs. Delamar 
this morning. Of the two, I think I have drawn 
to-day’s winning number in the lottery.” 


107 


CHAPTER VII 


WHEREIN STEINGAEE IS STAGGERED 

When in the train, the chief had plenty of time 
to review the queer mixture of sordid fact and 
sensational melodrama that was taking shape in his 
mind under a general classification as “ the Waver- 
ton suit.” A strict training of twenty years in his 
profession had taught him to beware of jumping at 
conclusions, a piece of mental gymnastics that 
Clancy’s peculiar genius accomplished with almost 
unfailing accuracy. But it was a wholly different 
thing to reach certain conclusions by following rules 
of evidence that were acquiring, in their way, the 
rigidity of a proposition in geometry, and it was 
now established beyond doubt that two women and 
two men were more or less bound up in events that 
led not only to a divorce but to the death of a third 
man, Kyrle. 

Moreover, it was impossible to resist the suspicion 
that Waverton was going in disguise to Narragan- 
sett Pier in order to spy upon his wife. Common- 
sense urged that he had heard rumors of the atten- 
tions paid to Mrs. Waverton by John Stratton 
Tearle, and that he went to verify them. Yet com- 
monsense asked in vain why he should wish to do 
any such thing. 


108 


Wherein Steingall Is Staggered 

He had not defended the divorce suit. He had 
acted as if he were heartily glad to be rid of his 
lawful spouse. He was the sort of person who 
might be expected to guffaw loudly if told that she 
was consoling herself already. Why, then, should 
he be anxious to obtain information as to her con- 
duct and probable future intentions before the 
divorce was two months old? 

Steingall wrestled with the problem for at least 
five minutes. When the self-evident solution oc- 
curred to him, he looked so disgusted that a man 
sitting next the window said apologetically: 

“ I am afraid the car is rather stuffy ; but I dare 
not have the window wide open, for fear of pneu- 
monia.” 

The detective recovered his wits instantly. “ I 
think there is plenty of air,” he assured his fellow- 
traveler with a smile. “ In fact, I was just regret- 
ting that I had no time to take a Turkish bath 
before leaving New York, and this is an excellent 
substitute.” 

His neighbor laughed. “ Glad you’re pleased,” 
he said. “ My choice lies between being roasted 
and cremated ; so I chose the roasting.” 

A desultory conversation was maintained all the 
way to New Haven, where Steingall had a good ex- 
cuse for stretching his legs in search of fresh air, 
and thus making sure that his quarry was not plan- 
ning to leave the train en route. But the mas- 
querading Waverton was lounging half asleep — or 
109 


No Other Way 

apparently so — in a comfortable chair in a parlor- 
car, and Steingall, while nipping the end off a cigar, 
realized that if the expression on his own face could 
so mislead a chance observer as to its cause, he 
himself might have analyzed Waverton’s motives 
wrongly. 

“ Well,” said he philosophically, “ the political 
maxim of the hour is 4 Watch Roosevelt ! 5 It’s up 
to me to watch Waverton, and see that he doesn’t 
steal a march on me between here and the next 
place.” 

On arriving at Narragansett Pier, Waverton de- 
posited a small parcel (his discarded clothing, 
Steingall imagined) in the baggage room; then he 
took a seat in an hotel omnibus. 

Steingall hired an open rig, and merely told the 
driver to jog along about a hundred yards behind 
the omnibus. In this fashion Narragansett was en- 
tered. Halfway down the main street, Waverton 
alighted from the omnibus and entered a restaurant 
of the quick-lunch variety. Curly Waverton in a 
five-cent establishment during the luncheon hour! 
Certainly wonders would never cease — or were, in 
fact, just beginning! 

The detective paid off his cab a little farther on, 
bought some bananas and fruit, and lunched fru- 
gally but well. He was still munching contentedly 
when Waverton reappeared and unconsciously led 
the way in this procession of two to the seafront. 
Here he took up a position with his back to the sea, 
110 


Wherein Steingall Is Staggered 

and quite obviously eyed the porch of the hotel he 
had left so unceremoniously eight days earlier. 

Even if he had not glanced frequently at his watch, 
there was no room left for doubt now as to the 
purpose of his visit to the Rhode Island resort. 
The weather was fine. It was practically certain 
that Mrs. Waverton and Mrs. Daunt, with the nurse 
and baby, would either drive or walk on this tempt- 
ing afternoon, and Claude Waverton had come to 
watch them; perhaps, in some way, to annoy them. 

Steingall racked his brains for the subtle and 
certain theory that Clancy’s nimble wits would un- 
questionably have supplied long since. Much as he 
liked Clancy, he was nettled sometimes by the little 
man’s omniscience. Very well — suppose Clancy were 
standing in his (Steingall’s) shoes, how would he 
explain this minor but baffling mystery? 

Of course, if Waverton only meant to waylay his 
wife, and by some public scandal prevent Mrs. Del- 
amar from pestering him in regard to marriage, he 
was acting as the unspeakable blackguard Mrs. Wav- 
erton’s lawyer had painted him. 

But Steingall had more faith in Clancy’s cool- 
headed opinion than in forensic eloquence, and the 
diminutive detective had spoken well of Waverton, 
had described him as a “ gentleman,” had even ex- 
pressed his surprise that he could ever have been 
guilty of the conduct ascribed to him. 

Could there be something in the changed manner 
and habits that Waverton seemed to have acquired 
111 


No Other Way 

since his accident? Was he anxious now to re- 
habilitate himself with his charming wife? No, that 
hardly accounted for his actions, because Fate could 
have devised no more favorable circumstance in this 
direction than the very mishap to the child in which 
he had distinguished himself ; yet he had fled from 
Narragansett forthwith as if the place were plague- 
stricken ! 

Ah, the child ! Steingall had given no thought to 
her. Was Waverton fool enough to dream of kid- 
napping her? Such incidents were not uncommon; 
though they often arose more from hatred of the 
parent favored by the law than from love of the 
offspring in dispute. Besides, no question had been 
raised concerning the custody of little Kathleen. 
Usually, in such cases, there are provisions as to 
“ access ” and such like legal formularies ; but the 
man now lounging in an absurd though effective 
disguise on the promenade had not thought fit to 
lift a finger in the matter when the opportunity 
served. 

True, this callous attitude was adopted in pre- 
accident days ; but Steingall put small faith in con- 
versions effected by illness, for he agreed with the 
satirist in the couplet: 

The devil was sick, — the devil a monk would be; 

The devil was well, — the devil a monk was he. 

And now there was a move. People were emerg- 
ing from the hotel in twos and threes, and at last 
112 


Wherein String all Is Staggered 

two women, accompanied by a Normandy nurse lead- 
ing a pretty little girl, came out into the sunshine, 
and descended a flight of steps leading to the road- 
way. 

Arrived there, they hesitated a moment. Appar- 
ently Mrs. Waverton disliked the notion of going to 
the casino to listen to the band. However, Mrs. 
Daunt’s smiling remonstrances prevailed, and the 
four strolled up to the gates. 

They passed directly in front of the nondescript 
foreigner, and Steingall discovered at once that 
Waverton was much more interested in his wife than 
in any other member of the quartet. 

Of course, the detective was only guessing the 
identity of the tw r o women. He had never before 
seen Mrs. Waverton nor her sister; but their re- 
semblance to each other, and the presence of Celes- 
tine with Kathleen, dispelled any doubt on that score. 
Indeed, when they were so near that he could hear 
each word they uttered, Mrs. Waverton said 
to the child, whose eyes had turned toward the 
rocks : 

“ Remember, Kathleen, if ever you get your frock 
wetted again by salt water, you will be taken straight 
home and put to bed.” 

Mrs. Daunt smiled into the little girl’s uplifted 
eyes. “ I am sure Kathleen does not like taking a 
bath with her clothes on,” she said. 

Steingall, unobtrusively gazing his fill at them, 
marveled at the folly of the man who had thrust 
113 


No Other Way 

out of his life this beautiful and gracious woman ; 
while, to one fond of children, it was difficult to 
understand how the father of such a dainty little 
maid as Kathleen could endure to be parted from 
her forever of his own free will. 

But here was a long-haired and alpaca-coated 
foreigner buying a ticket of admission to the casino, 
although he did not enter at once; so the detective 
turned away. The change of position brought his 
eyes to the hotel, though he noted Waverton’s move- 
ments, and he became aware of another person who 
was interested in the progress of the women. This 
was a tall, well-groomed man, of imposing appear- 
ance and dignified carriage, who was standing in the 
veranda. 

“ Tearle, for a dollar ! ” chuckled Steingall. 
“ Now something ought to happen. Clancy will 
writhe with anguish when I tell him of to-day’s 
doings.” 

Clancy certainly did writhe ; but not with anguish. 
Steingall’s recital caused him intense mirth ; though, 
for once in a way, owing to developments that tran- 
spired presently, the Little Fellow was as mystified 
as the Big Fellow. 

The women bowed to the doorman of the casino 
and passed in with the maid and child. Mrs. Wav- 
erton chose a sheltered seat on the lawn, away from 
the band, where the child could run about in safety, 
but remain constantly under observation. Steingall 
stood fast in his original position, and Waverton, 
114 


Wherein Steingall Is Staggered 

apparently not trusting too implicitly to his makeup, 
hesitated before he passed into the building. 

He too allowed his glance to travel toward the 
hotel, where Tearle was now descending the steps. 
Instantly he walked back quickly across the road- 
way and bought a cheap-looking stick from a vender, 
and surprised Steingall by conversing earnestly with 
the man at the door. Just as Tearle entered — he 
apparently had a season ticket, and was known — 
Waver ton followed, but was waiting for change due 
him. 

Then, by some mischance, Tearle tripped badly, 
and sprawled at full length before the gay company 
in the casino. The foreigner rushed to his assist- 
ance, and was profuse in gesticulations and seeming 
apologies ; but Tearle cursed him heartily and be- 
gan to climb the steps again, for not only were 
his clothes soiled, but he had split his gloves, 
burst a few buttons, and torn the knees of his 
trousers. 

Plenty of people saw the accident; but Steingall 
was the only onlooker who realized that Waverton 
had deliberately brought the other man to earth, by 
thrusting the stick neatly between his ankles. The 
purchase of the stick on the spur of the moment was 
an inspiration ; but its effective use was masterly. 
It demanded a cool nerve, a steady eye, a firm wrist, 
and an expert knowledge of the exact sort of thrust 
that would inevitably result in its recipient’s fall. 
From that instant, Steingall’s appreciation of the 
115 


No Other Way 

ne’er-do-well’s qualities mounted rapidly. It was 
destined to reach a higher point ere he saw the lights 
of New York. 

While Tearle limped back to the hotel, the cause 
of his discomfiture made off in the direction of the 
older part of the town west of the casino. Soon, 
however, he was back again, paid for readmission, 
and resumed his unobtrusive scrutiny of Mrs. Wav- 
erton and her companions. 

By this time Steingall had shifted from his first 
position. He reasoned that a man who could plan 
and achieve the coup that placed John Stratton 
Tearle on the sick list so promptly had brains enough 
to perceive the marked attentions of a stranger, 
especially as he himself was playing the spy. Soon 
the detective quitted the casino altogether, and 
lounged along the front. There he remained until 
the women returned to the hotel with the child and 
her nurse. 

All this time the long-haired foreigner had re- 
mained near them. He watched their slow prog- 
ress from pier to hotel, consulted his watch when 
they had vanished, and then walked briskly into 
town. There he hired a vehicle, was driven to the 
station, claimed his parcel, and then took train for 
New York. Steingall followed. Apparently Wav- 
erton was unconscious of his presence. 

This tame conclusion of an episode that had 
opened with such promise puzzled Steingall consider- 
ably. It also annoyed him. From a safe distance 
116 


Wherein Steingall Is Staggered 

he glowered at Waverton with big blue eyes 
that darted the lightning of wrath and bewilder- 
ment. 

When, at last, Waverton boarded a parlor-car of 
the New York express, Steingall determined to adopt 
heroic measures. He waited until the train was on 
the point of leaving, and then dashed breathlessly 
into the car occupied by the man who had led him 
such a dance apparently to no purpose. Waverton 
had vanished ; but the detective ran him to earth in 
the smoking compartment, and the two men had it 
to themselves. 

“ Gee ! ” said Steingall cheerfully, opening his 
cigar-case, “ that was a close shave. Another min- 
ute and I should have lost it.” 

“Why?” came the disconcerting question, and 
Waverton, who had removed his spectacles, looked 
him straight into the face with steel-gray eyes that 
were hardly in keeping with his black wig and fiercely 
Continental mustaches. 

“ Why? ” echoed Steingall, smiling blandly. “ Be- 
cause this train was on time — and I was late.” 

“ But I am under the impression that you were 
in the depot a quarter of an hour ago? ” 

There was no attempt now at an accent, nor any 
of the expressive play of hands and features with 
which he had sought to mollify the injured Tearle. 
He spoke in his ordinary tone, and the smooth, easy 
enunciation of an American of good breeding came 
oddly from the lips of this ultra-foreigner. 

117 


No Other Way 

The detective, no novice in a game that demanded 
the quick exercise of his wits, answered readily. 

“ Quite true,” he said. “ I had so much time at 
my disposal that I failed to note how it was pass- 
ing, and found myself absurdly hurried when I went 
to buy a ticket. Do you smoke? Will you join 
me in a cigar? ” 

“ Willingly,” said Waverton, taking the proffered 
case. Then he glanced at the big man with a pleas- 
ant smile. “ You don’t look like a nervous subject,” 
he said. “ You will not be alarmed, I hope, if I 
effect some marked changes in my personal appear- 
ance ? ” 

Few sentences in the English lauguage could have 
astonished Steingall so greatly as those simple words. 
It certainly needed no effort to simulate the wonder 
that crept into his voice. 

“ By all means,” he said ; “ though I hardly un- 
derstand — ” 

“ Oh, I’ll soon show you. I have worn these 
beastly things all day, and am sick of them.” 

Throwing aside the felt hat, Waverton took off 
the close-fitting wig. Then he tried to remove the 
mustaches ; but they were stuck to his upper lip, and 
could not be shed so expeditiously. He laughed at 
the blank amazement depicted in Steingall’s face; 
though he was far from comprehending its true ex- 
planation. 

“ The fellow who made me up gave me some com- 
position to rub into this confounded encumbrance,” 
118 


Wherein Hieing all Is Staggered 

he said. 66 1 think I shall have a wash. You will 
meet quite a different person when I emerge. I’ll 
not light up until I am myself again.” And with 
that, he took the parcel and vanished. 

“Well!” muttered Steingall, blowing rings of 
smoke as was his way when profoundly stirred, “ I 
have met some refrigerators in my time, and have 
seen some strange things ; but this beats any cold 
storage proposition I’ve ever come across ! ” 

Within five minutes Waverton was back in his 
place, an alert, soldierly-looking man whose care- 
lined brow and iron-gray hair gave him an appear- 
ance of more years than the thirty-three with which 
he was credited in the police record. He had washed 
the color off his face, and was now wearing his ordi- 
nary coat and straw hat. Obviously, the parcel 
had changed contents. 

But during that short respite Steingall had been 
thinking furiously, and if Clancy was a Talleyrand 
in divining other men’s motives, Steingall was a Bis- 
marck in unmasking them. As Waverton was light- 
ing the cigar the detective brought out his card-case. 

“ It will put matters on the square if I tell you 
who I am,” he said. “ Will you look at this, card? ” 
Waverton did look. He looked long and ear- 
nestly; but Steingall could not see any sign of dis- 
turbance in his face. Not an eyelid quivered, though 
a man who had just shed a disguise under such 
peculiar conditions might well feel disconcerted when 
he found himself in the presence of the chief of the 
119 


No Other Way 

New York Detective Bureau. But Waverton puffed 
steadily at the cigar, and there was a glint of humor 
in the eyes he raised at last to Steingall’s. 

44 You carry an excellent brand of cigars,” he 
said. 44 Will you tell me where you get them, and 
I will jot down the address on your card.” 

“ Allow me to write it for you,” said Steingall, 
with equal nonchalance, and, after scribbling the 
name of a firm beneath his own, he wrote on the 
upper space, 44 To introduce Mr. Claude G. Waver- 
ton.” 

44 1 fancy you will be able to read this scrawl,” he 
went on ; 44 though writing in a train is an art I do 
not excel in.” 

The other took the card again. 44 It is quite legi- 
ble,” he said, after a slight pause. 44 1 am very much 
obliged to you. I shall order some of these cigars 
to-morrow.” 

Steingall felt as a master at arms might feel 
when his deadliest stroke had been deftly turned 
aside by a stranger’s rapier. He almost sighed in 
his disappointment, because now he was compelled 
to adopt cruder methods. 

44 So you intend to remain in New York, Mr. Wav- 
erton? ” he said. 

44 1 am going to my home in the Adirondacks to- 
morrow.” 

44 Since you know who I am, have you any ob- 
jection to answering a few questions?” 

44 Knowing who you are, need they be put? I 

120 


Wherein Steingall Is Staggered 

don’t wish to appear uncivil, especially after you 
have given me such a first-class Havana ; but I as- 
sume that you followed me from New York, and 
have — what shall I say? — kept in touch with me 
all day, so you are as well posted in my movements 
as I am myself.” 

Steingall was fully aware that he was being played 
with in this duel of words, and his blue eyes glinted 
with some of the fire that sparkled in the steel-gray 
ones that met his gaze unflinchingly. 

“ If any charge that had its scene in New York 
since nine o’clock this morning were preferred 
against you, Mr. Waverton, you would have in me 
a credible witness for proving an alibi,” he said. 
“ I am not nearly so interested in your actions 
to-day as in their motive. I think you would like 
me to speak plainly. A man with whom you must 
have some acquaintance, at least by repute if not 
personally, a Mr. Kyrle, of Absecon, has been found 
dead in peculiar circumstances. The police are in- 
quiring into the affair, seeing that Mr. Kyrle and 
his wife were not on the best of terms with each other, 
and it is only reasonable to suppose that we should 
wish to clear up the lady’s movements during the 
few days prior to her husband’s death. Next to 
her, naturally, we are interested in her associates. 
Of course, you may decline to assist me in the mat- 
ter. I cannot demand your help, and, if you look on 
my presence here as an intrusion, I shall transfer 
myself to another car.” 


m 


No Other Way 

“ You seem to be rather vexed with me, Mr. Stein- 
gall,” said Waverton calmly. 

“ No, sir, not vexed; merely precise. You would 
have good cause to be annoyed with me if I had 
sought information under false pretenses.” 

“ Suppose I had retained my disguise, what would 
have happened ? ” 

“ Then, as you would not be Mr. Claude G. Waver- 
ton, but apparently a German violinist, I should 
have remained your casual acquaintance of a railway 
journey.” 

“ That’s candid, not to say ingenuous. Now, I 
have nothing to conceal. The worst is known al- 
ready, — the newspapers took care of that, — and, as 
I told your colleague, Mr. Clancy, with the exception 
of a brief meeting in New York, I have not seen or 
spoken to Mrs. Delamar since I quitted her house 
at Palm Beach. That statement is literally true. 
What else do you wish to know? ” 

“ Why did you visit Narragansett Pier to-day? ” 

“ Obviously, to see my wife ; yet without her cog- 
nizance.” 

“ Pray forgive me if I am treading on delicate 
ground — did you also expect to see Mr. John Strat- 
ton Tearle ? ” 

“ No.” 

Steingall permitted himself to appear astonished. 
66 But you dealt with him very promptly when he 
put in an appearance,” he said. 

“ Knowing the man as I do, I was not long in 


Wherein Steingall Is Staggered 

forming an opinion as to the object of his presence; 
so I decided to free Mrs. Waverton and her sister 
from his attractive company during one afternoon, 
at least.” 

“ You succeeded admirably. Allow me to con- 
gratulate you on the means. Was it jiu jitsu, or 
the savate? ” 

“ Neither. It was — the invention of the moment, 
I suppose.” 

Waverton seemed to catch his tongue in the very 
act of tripping, and the detective began instantly to 
speculate as to the nature of the missing word. He 
racked his brains for a solution all the way to New 
York, and when he told Clancy of that trivial hiatus 
the little man pounced on it as the event of the 
day. But he did not permit the conversation to 
languish on that account. 

“ You are aware, I take it, sir, that Mr. Tearle 
and Mrs. Delamar are close acquaintances, to put 
it mildly? ” he said. 

“ Oh, yes. He introduced me to the lady in the 
first instance.” 

“You speak bitterly of him; yet he was your 
intimate friend.” 

Waverton’s left hand brushed his eyes and fore- 
head with the gesture of a man who tries to dispel 
a distasteful memory. “ That has passed,” he said 
wearily. “ Since my accident, with its enforced 
seclusion, — and proper diet, — my mind seems to have 
entered into a new arena. To vary the metaphor, 
123 


No Other Way 

and adopt an older one, I have turned over a new 
leaf. Some black marks still show through the thin 
paper ; but I am endeavoring to obliterate them. At 
any rate, Inspector, you gentlemen of the bureau 
need not waste your time in shadowing me. I am 
prepared now and always to give you every assist- 
ance that lies in my power. Unhappily, it is very 
slight. I know no more of Mr. Kyrle’s death than 
the facts recorded in the press ; while my knowledge 
of his wife’s actions and whereabouts during the 
last two months is practically nil. I am a dis- 
credited man, and I ask nothing better than to be 
allowed to pass a year or more in the privacy of 
my home on Lake Champlain. But there is one thing 
I am intensely anxious about. Mrs. Waverton has 
been treated vilely, and I mean to save her from a 
repetition of the misery for which I hold myself 
solely responsible. So this creature, Tearle, must 
be warned off. He is a rascal and blackguard, and 
I shall take all possible means to protect my — my 
one-time wife from him. If, in the course of your 
inquiries, you find that he remains deaf to the warn- 
ing I shall give him personally, I hope it will not 
conflict with your official duties to let me know what 
is going on. 

Steingall actually whistled. “We become allies, 
then ! ” he cried. 

“ Exactly. I have been the prey of a harpy. 
My — Mrs. Waverton must be protected from one.” 

The chief had a heart well adapted to the require- 


Wherein Steingall Is Staggered 

ments of a generous frame. It was large, and sound, 
and full-blooded, and he would have staked his pro- 
fessional reputation now that this man had been 
more sinned against than sinner. He leaned for- 
ward, a hand on each firm and well-rounded knee. 
44 I know a bit about the world, and human nature, 
and woman’s nature in particular,” he said gently. 
44 Now, it seems to me that if you had only met Mrs. 
Waverton after you had rescued the child — if you 
even met her to-morrow, or next week — ” 

But Waverton broke in, with a curious stiffening 
of lip and voice. 44 What you are suggesting is im- 
possible, absolutely impossible ! ” he said. 

Still Steingall persisted. He had seen the impos- 
sible accomplished more than once. “ There may be 
no other way,” he said. 

44 I shall find one. That way is closed — closed 
forever.” 

44 Great Scott ! ” said Steingall, recounting the in- 
cident to Clancy later, 44 he not only closed the door, 
but slammed and bolted it. Yet he never really told 
me why he went to Narragansett Pier, did he? ” 

“ No,” growled Clancy. 44 Some day, quite soon, 
I shall tell him why he went. And I shall tell him 
that missing word, too. And he won’t like the tell- 
ing, I promise you. Name of a good little gray 
man ! how he will squirm ! ” 


125 


CHAPTER VIII 


CLOSE QUARTERS 

After that slamming and bolting of the door 
of reconciliation, the talk in the train died away. 
Steingall began to chat about other matters, hop- 
ing to draw out his strange companion, and take 
his measure more completely by interchange of ideas 
and reminiscences; but Waverton, pleading fatigue, 
dozed for an hour or longer. 

He was not feigning sleep. Obviously, he was 
still enfeebled by the injuries he had received in 
the accident, and the activities of the day had ex- 
hausted him. So Steingall could only seize the op- 
portunity to study an interesting face; and this, 
to be sure, he did thoroughly. The strange outcome 
was that the closer he analyzed Waverton’s char- 
acteristics as portrayed in his worn features, the 
less he understood how Mrs. Delamar had contrived 
to ruin such a life. He failed completely to read 
into the strong, stern, self-reliant lineaments the in- 
delible records of a roue, a drunkard, a jaded patron 
of the prize ring and haunter of the degraded circles 
that pander to the idle and dissolute in New York 
and the rest of the world’s capitals. Illness has a 
pathos and a dignity of its own ; but it cannot efface 
126 


Close Quarters 

the traces of vicious years. Yet Claude Waverton 
bore closer resemblance to one who had fought 
through a long and arduous campaign than to the 
dissolute ne’er-do-well whose evil repute was almost 
worldwide. 

In fact, Steingall summed him up exactly as 
Clancy had done, and the extraordinary thought in- 
truded itself, “ Is he the same man? ” 

There could be no doubt of it, and the detective 
frowned at the nonsense he was indulging in. Mrs. 
Waverton, the French nurse, the servants at 64th 
Street, Rice, who had been Waverton’s valet for 
seven years, the family lawyer, with whom Waver- 
ton must have been in constant communication of 
late, — none of these people had questioned his 
identity. Then, there remained Mrs. Delamar and 
Tearle, intimate acquaintances of the last twelve 
months, whose fortunes were bound up so curiously 
with Waverton’s, the notion had never entered their 
minds that the hero of so many wild escapades and 
the worn, tired man now nestling in a comer of the 
car was not one and the same person. 

Steingall laughed softly to himself. “ Guess it’s 
a clear case of metamorphosis,” he said. Then his 
brows wrinkled again; though he chuckled at some 
conceit which had occurred to him. 

At New York it was Waverton who showed the 
greater self-possession. Steingall was about to 
bid him good-night, when the other caught his 

127 


arm. 


No Other Way 

“ By the way,” he said, 44 are you taking a 
taxi? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“Good! You shall drop me at my hotel. Thus 
do I revenge myself for being regarded as a sus- 
picious person. I waste your day, smoke your 
cigars, — by the way, let me have another, — and use 
your cab. Do you always treat criminals in this 
lordly way, Inspector? ” 

44 If they conduct themselves well, Mr. Waver- 
ton,” and Steingall grinned at the humor of the 
situation. 

Talking matters over with Clancy, he reverted 
to the singular contrariety of Claude Waver ton’s 
present manners and past history. 

44 Summing him up while he slept in the train,” he 
said, 44 I called it a case of metamorphosis. One uses 
such terms loosely. Can you tell me just what meta- 
morphosis means ? ” 

46 Yes,” cackled Clancy. “ It means exactly the 
opposite to that which you think it means. The 
word you wanted was metempsychosis.” 

44 Oh, was it ? Then perhaps you will be good 
enough to carry the correction a stage further.” 

44 Metempsychosis implies the passing of a man’s 
soul after death into some other body.” 

44 Excellent ! Let’s put that in our diary. The 
joke will explain itself when we watch the Commis- 
sioner’s face while he reads it.” * 

44 Commissioners are unimaginative mortals, or 
128 


Close Quarters 

they would not be chosen for the job,” snapped 
Clancy. “ It is my firm belief that when Waverton 
was hammered into insensibility against the rocks at 
Palm Beach — probably they were metamorphic 
rocks ; so you were 4 warm,’ as children say — his soul 
quitted his body for a time, and some prowling spook 
jumped the claim. How else can you account for 
the change in the creature? A Frenchman named 
Duchesne has a theory — ” 

44 Look here ! ” broke in Steingall, waving a fat 
hand impatiently. 44 This thing is getting on my 
nerves. We are being surfeited with wonders; but 
facts are uncommonly scarce. The Waverton di- 
vorce has no concern for us except in its bearings 
on the death of Kyrle, and there we have to depend 
on the diary, the doctor’s analysis, and some cigar- 
ettes, either whole or in part. The clews are sub- 
stantial enough in their way, and they are backed by 
a strong motive; but, somehow, I seem to feel a 
clot of blood pressing on my brain when I begin 
to construct theories from the material at command. 
Mrs. Delamar is a clever woman, and I cannot bring 
myself to believe that she would deliberately build 
up evidence against herself. Then, she must still be 
pretty sure of marrying Waverton, notwithstand- 
ing the interview in the Waldorf-Astoria, or she 
would not have written Tearle in such determined 
strain. Yet we have Waverton himself vowing by 
all the gods that he will have none of Mrs. Dela- 
mar, and fiercely intent on spoiling Tearle’s little 
129 


No Other Way 

game with his wife, whom he seems to venerate and 
detest in the same breath. What do you make of 
it? 55 

“ Detest?” Clancy’s eyebrows curved. 

“ I am choosing my words badly — I am tired, I 
suppose.” 

“ Doctors call it logomania, one of the early symp- 
toms of general paralysis of the insane.” 

“ I wish you wouldn’t try to be funny at this 
hour. If Waverton doesn’t detest his wife, he avoids 
her, shuns her, will listen to no suggestion of bury- 
ing the hatchet.” 

Then Clancy leaned forward over the table at 
which they were sitting, and propped his sharp chin 
on his clenched fists. “ Now, listen to me, Inspector 
Steingall ! ” he said. “ You are top dog in our 
crowd, because you own everyday, Uncle Sam, com- 
monsense ideas, and they carry you in a straight line 
so long as you don’t enter my domain, which is that 
of the dreamer. While you followed your own 
methods you were keen on the Waverton suit 
as holding the key of the whole situation. You were 
right. Then you endeavor to clothe your robust 
form in my mantle of fantasy, and forthwith you 
abandon the true and direct trail you have nosed 
since the inquiry opened. That is where you are 
going wrong. Of course, a night’s sleep will cure 
you ; but why waste a night? Can I have two weeks’ 
vacation ? ” 

“ What are you driving at? ” demanded Steingall, 

130 


Close Quarters 

almost morosely ; for none knew better than him- 
self how unerringly Clancy had found the weak spot 
in his armor. 

“ I really meant what I said. I want a couple of 
weeks off. Five days may suffice; but I had better 
stipulate for a longer time You see, I can hardly 
ask the department to sanction a trip to Palm 
Beach, and I am going there. I shall return in 
time for the adjourned inquest.” 

“ And what in the world do you expect to find at 
Palm Beach? ” 

“ Of course, the name covers an area as well as a 
multitude of sins. For present purposes it stretches 
from the Asphodel House at Palm Beach to 
Schwartz’s private casino at Boynton, — about nine 
miles as the crow flies; but nearer fourteen by auto- 
mobile.” 

“ Oh, I see. Well, have it your own way. When 
do you start?” 

“ By the two-twenty p.m. to-morrow.” 

“ Meet me here at ten, and we’ll go into matters 
fully. I shall not intrust this affair to other hands 
than my own while you are absent.” 

Clancy laughed, and took a crushed cigar from 
his waistcoat pocket. “ That’s the most sensible 
thing you’ve said during the last hour,” he cried. 
“ Now, walk with me over to Broadway and I’ll 
buy you a drink.” 

Officially there was no excuse for sending Clancy 
to Palm Beach. The leave of absence gave Clancy 
131 


No Other Way 

liberty ; for a detective on vacation is free to do as 
he likes with his time. As to the expense, that was 
provided for by what Steingall mentally called the 
Delamar fund, of which there was no record what- 
ever. Still, it was in the mind of each man that a 
costly journey to and from Florida was hardly war- 
ranted by existing conditions, so far as the inquest 
on Kyrle went. 

Steingall’s mental attitude was that of a man 
shut up in a room of utter darkness, and groping 
blindly for some mysterious presence that might or 
might not be there. He expected to find something; 
but his hands touched only empty air. If Clancy, 
if anything, was not keener than himself in this 
strange quest, he would have been inclined to turn 
over the whole business to the New Jersey police. 
Even the sensational bequest of the diary did not 
justify a call on the time and energies of the bureau, 
since it really formed part and parcel of the local 
investigation. 

But he trusted Clancy as he would trust no other. 
He knew it was useless to ask his diminutive col- 
league what he expected to discover in Florida, — 
as well ask an opium-eater to describe his dreams, — 
so it was with whimsical gravity that he said next 
morning : 

“ Unless you strike oil soon, old man, chuck the 
whole business, send me a wire, and come home. I’ll 
tell Atlantic City we haven’t any further interest 
in the case.” 


Close Quarters 

“ But the Atlantic City people will promptly ar- 
rest Mrs. Delamar on suspicion.” 

“ Let them.” 

“ Oh dear, no ! Whatever happens she must re- 
main in a fool’s paradise till the adjourned inquest.” 

“ Did you see her yesterday ? ” 

“ Yes. She went shopping.” 

Steingall laughed with sheer annoyance. “ I’m 
afraid we’ve found a mare’s nest, Charles,” he said. 

“ Or an owl’s. Don’t forget our owl. I wish you 
had heard that screech. It would have curdled your 
backbone, and then stiffened it. I believe Kyrle was 
shrieking for vengeance through that bird’s steam- 
whistle throat.” 

“ Owl me no owls ! ” cried Steingall. “ I’m begin- 
ning to fear we are a pair of geese.” 

And with this they parted, Clancy to rush south 
during the night, and Steingall to clear up arrears 
of other pressing business. 

Next morning Claude Waverton traveled to the 
Adirondacks, and for four days lived like a hermit, 
or as nearly resembling a hermit as the conditions of 
existence in a well-kept country house would permit. 
On the score of ill health he politely declined to re- 
ceive the manager, the butler, the head gardener, or 
anyone who meant to discuss household affairs or 
business in any shape or form. He hardly realized 
the immense concession made by the Rev. George W. 
Norton, local pastor of the Protestant Episcopal 
Church, in calling on an admitted rascal who hap- 
133 


No Other Way 

pened to be his chief parishioner, or he might have 
endeavored to assuage the worthy clergyman’s dis- 
tress by promising future amendment and heavy sub- 
scriptions to various deserving objects. But he shut 
himself off resolutely, even from the servants in the 
house, and if he encountered an employee in his 
solitary wanderings through the park he would avoid 
the man altogether, or, if that was impossible, ac- 
knowledge the salute and cheery “ Good-day, sir,” 
by a smile and nod and a quickened pace. 

Within doors he lived mainly in the library, and 
his constant companion, whether inside the house or 
strolling about the domain, was an old hound that 
had hobbled into view when he chanced to pass the 
stables on the afternoon of his arrival. 

“Hello, Bob!” he had cried joyously, and the 
dog ceased growling and leaped up at him. In fact, 
Bob’s hoarse yelps of delight brought out an appre- 
ciative groom, who was manifestly surprised when 
the two went off together. 

“ Queer thing ! ” said the man to Rice later. 
“ Old Bob isn’t a forgivin’ sort of beast, an’ I 
thought he’d remember the boss pepperin’ him with 
shot last time he was here.” 

“What was that for?” demanded Rice, who was 
beginning to think that the Claude Waverton of 
former days was an evil dream, a figment of a dis- 
torted imagination. 

“ Well, you see, Bob was a bit spoiled by one of 
the keepers who took ’im out, an’ he flushed a flight 
134j 


Close Quarters 

of duck the first day he was tried. The second time 
Mr. Claude let drive at ’im, an’ he’s been lame ever 
since.” 

Oddly enough, Waver ton discovered the shot 
marks in Bob’s near hind leg next day, and asked 
Rice if he could say what had caused them. 

For once, the valet was at a loss to frame an 
answer. 44 I don’t rightly know the facts, sir,” 
he stammered. 44 The dog was shot, I believe.” 

44 I can see that for myself. Was it an acci- 
dent? ” 

44 Something of the kind, sir.” 

44 Some clumsy brute blundered, I suppose. Find 
out from the head-keeper — what’s his name? ” 

44 Binks, sir.” 

44 Ah, yes. Ask Binks how it happened.” 

Rice hoped that the thing would be forgotten; 
but Waverton questioned him again next morning, 
and Rice was compelled to blurt out the distressing 
information that Bob had been the victim of his 
master’s annoyance. 

Waverton did not look confused, nor try to laugh 
the incident away. His face took on that curiously 
stern look which was one of his new and rare char- 
acteristics. 

44 Why didn’t some man drop his gun and give me 
a licking? ” he said quietly. 44 1 was a fine specimen 
of a tough in those days, Rice, and the other fellows 
in the line could not have been much better.” 

Rice, having nothing to say, remained silent, and 

135 


No Other Way 

Bob was consoled for past injuries by half of a juicy 
kidney. 

When in New York Waverton had purchased a 
typewriter. His right wrist was still so stiff and 
intractable that he was unable to use a pen, and, as 
he explained to Rice, and to Curtis, the lawyer, in a 
letter, it was easier to spell out his correspondence 
on the machine with his left hand than to draw it 
laboriously with the same untutored member. The 
cuts on his right hand and arm were healed, and 
the bruises had vanished ; but he was acutely con- 
scious at times of some damaged nerve or ligament 
at the junction of hand and wrist. Nothing could 
be done surgically, the doctors at Palm Beach had 
assured him. Time alone could cure, and Time is a 
surgeon not to be hurried. 

He soon gained surprising efficiency in his one- 
handed manipulation of the typewriter, and on 
Friday, the fourth day of residence at “ The Dene,” 
he spent an hour after breakfast in writing a letter. 
In the first instance he made a rough draft, which 
he corrected, copied, and burned. Then he addressed 
an envelope, and summoned Rice. 

“ Don’t mail this in the letter-box,” he said, “ but 
take it yourself to the post-office.” 

The valet understood that the missive was not 
meant to be scrutinized by other eyes, and hurried 
away on the errand, the township of Saginaw being 
nearly a mile distant. Being quite a human person, 
he glanced at the address, and was positively startled 

136 


Close Quarters 

on finding that it was intended for 44 Mrs. Elstead,” 
at Narragansett Pier. Now, Rice was well aware 
that Mrs. Waverton had reverted to her maiden 
name, and his sedate face creased in an appreciative 
grin. 

44 Good luck to you ! ” he murmured, as the letter 
disappeared in a window slit of the Saginaw post- 
office. 44 If it wasn’t for Miss Kathleen, there 
mightn’t be much hope; but now I’ll lay a five-spot 
to a hayseed that that blessed kid will bring ’em to- 
gether again.” 

Rice, it may be observed, liked taking long odds; 
so he lost a remarkable number of bets. 

On Sunday and Monday he cast an observant eye 
over his master’s mail; but no envelope bore the 
Narragansett postmark. Indeed, Waverton’s cor- 
respondence was growing smaller every day. Rice 
himself, at first, used to send a stereotyped acknowl- 
edgment of nearly all letters, in which 44 Mr. Claude 
Waverton regretted that his recent accident pre- 
vented him from answering yours of the — th,” and 
this style of rejoinder exercised a marked effect in 
lessening the volume of condolences and anxious in- 
quiries which poured in from clubs, theaters, hotels, 
and sporting centers like Chicago and Sara- 
toga. 

Rice, of course, had seen Mrs. Waverton’s hand- 
writing quite recently, and he fancied he would 
recognize it. He was not mistaken, though, to use 
his own expressive phrase, it fair gev’ him a turn, it 

137 


No Other Way 

did, when the expected letter arrived on Monday 
evening, by hand, and addressed to himself. 

Dear Mr. Rice [it ran]. — I am here, in Saginaw, at the 
Rev. Mr. Norton’s house. Can you come and see me for a 
few minutes, and as soon as possible? I believe that no one 
in the place, other than Mr. and Mrs. Norton, knows of my 
presence, and I wish the fact to be kept quite private at 
present. Sincerely, Doris Waverton. 

“ Who brought this ? ” he gasped, gazing wide- 
eyed at the footman who handed him the note. 

“ One of Mrs. Norton’s gals, an’ a pretty one, 
too,” came the answer with a wink. 

That wink was helpful. It restored Rice to a 
semblance of self-possession. 

“ Oh, if she’s a pretty one, I must attend to her 
without delay,” he smirked, and the footman an- 
nounced in the servants’ hall that old Rice wasn’t 
quite such a dyed-in-the-wool bachelor as he made 
himself out to be. 

On his way to the door, the valet determined that, 
come what might, he would see his former mistress, 
and he told the waiting messenger that he would be 
at the parsonage a few minutes after eight o’clock. 

He rushed through his duties when Waverton had 
dressed for dinner, and, by a rapid scurry on a 
bicycle, was at Norton’s house at the appointed time. 
He was shown into the study, and there found Doris 
Waverton, who was attired in a traveling costume, 
and wore a large hat draped with a dark-blue motor- 
ing veil. This, however, was lifted at the moment, 
138 


Close Quarters 

and her charming face was flushed with excitement 
and anxiety. 

44 I sent for you, Rice,” she explained instantly, 
44 because I did not care to trust my affairs to any 
other person at 4 The Dene,’ and I signed my former 
name to prevent any chance of error. I want to see 
my — to see Mr. Waverton to-night if possible. How 
can I manage it? ” 

Rice was wrung with conflicting emotions. He 
was puzzled, pleased, flattered, at the same moment; 
but he could only blurt out a commonplace opinion 
that if she would authorize him to ask Mr. Claude — 
46 Oh, I don’t mean in that way,” she interrupted 
eagerly. 44 I am afraid, after my Rhode Island ex- 
periences, and from circumstances that have come 
to my knowledge since, that if Mr. Waverton knew 
I was in Saginaw he would take every means in his 
power to avoid me. But I must see him, speak to 
him — I really must! Don’t you understand, Rice? 
I want to take him by surprise, to come upon him 
so unexpectedly that he cannot refuse to discuss cer- 
tain matters with me. You will help me, won’t you? 
I am quite alone here, and I have no one else to appeal 
to. Can you manage this thing for me, somehow? ” 
Very beautiful and pathetic she looked in her 
pleading, and the valet, who might have been a 
knight errant had he lived a few hundred years 
earlier, vowed that he would be her slave if it cost 
him his job, which meant far more to him than the 
fret and fume of life to a light-headed troubadour. 
139 


No Other Way 

His right hand rose to the shaved upper lip, and 
his left traveled to the small of his back. 

44 Well, ma’am, seein’ as it’s you, I’ll do what I 
can — ” 

44 Ah, I was sure of you, Rice ! ” broke in Doris, 
with a catch in her voice that went to the man’s 
heart. 

44 You see, it’s this way, ma’am,” he went on. 
44 Bein’ a fine night, an’ not givin’ much time to his 
dinner, Mr. Claude will probably light a cigar and 
go out for a stroll with Bob — ” 

44 Bob ! ” she exclaimed. 44 Who is Bob? ” 

44 The old setter, ma’am, the lame dog.” 

44 Oh, I remember. He was my particular friend. 
But — ” She hesitated in a bewildered way until the 
urgency of her mission drove aside all other con- 
siderations. 44 You mean that I may meet Mr. Wa- 
verton in the park? ” 

44 It’s almost a certainty, ma’am. If you was to 
go now to the boathouse by the lake he will prob- 
ably pass that way before nine o’clock.” 

44 But, if he does not? To-night, just because I 
happen to be awaiting him, he may remain in the 
house.” 

Rice coughed, sure sign of a diplomatic utter- 
ance. 44 In that case, ma’am, if Mr. Claude stops in- 
doors, he will be in the library, an’ the drawing- 
room windows will be open. I’ll take care that they 
are.” 

44 Ah ! ” Doris sighed her gratitude, and opened 

140 


Close Quarters 

the gold purse that hung from her neck by a 
chain. 

44 If you don’t mind, ma’am — I’d rather — ” began 
the valet sheepishly. 

She closed the purse with a snap, and smiled 
brightly. 44 I quite understand, Rice,” she said. 
44 You are acting as my true well-wisher, not as one 
whom I could pay for services rendered.” 

Rice’s placid face flushed with pleasure. 44 I can 
only hope, ma’am — ” he blurted forth; but recollect- 
ing himself, checked the expression of a pious desire, 
and went on to ask if she needed any assistance in 
reaching the boathouse, since she would probably 
wish to avoid the main road. 

She laughed at that. 46 1 have not forgotten my 
way about the place,” she said. 44 By walking a 
quarter of a mile down the sycamore avenue I can 
enter the park by climbing a gate, and then take 
the path through the wood to the lake. It is not 
dark, and the distance is short; so there is nothing 
to be afraid of, and a scampering rabbit or two 
will not alarm me.” 

So the valet raced back to the house, and, watch- 
ing developments from an upper window, heard Wa- 
verton whistle to the dog, and saw the pair descend 
an Italian terrace and stride off across the sloping 
pasture land that led in a gentle descent to the 
broad expanse of Lake Champlain. 

Rice looked at his watch, — ten minutes to nine. 

44 It’s as good as a play,” he chuckled. 44 Now, 

141 


i 


No Other Way 

I wonder if it will work out all right? What a 
facer it ’ud be for Mrs. Delamar if Mr. Claude an’ 
his lawful wife kem together again ! ” 

Meanwhile, Doris had gone to her self-appointed 
tryst. The avenue she had spoken of was a public 
road lined with sycamore trees, and halfway along 
its straight and level arcade a gate gave access to a 
densely planted wood which provided cover for some 
of the pheasants which Waverton had imported. 
The gate was locked; but this active young woman 
made light of that, and a “ drive,” or shooting road, 
that led to the lake was really less gloomy than the 
arched-in avenue. 

The drive stopped somewhat short of a belt of 
willows and osiers, but a path to the left would bring 
her to the boathouse, while the same path to the right 
crossed another shooting alley some two hundred 
yards farther on. 

In the gloaming of that midsummer night Doris 
Waverton could see the water shining like a sheet of 
burnished silver above the fringe of willows. She 
stepped out smartly, and gave no heed to the bolting 
of whitetailed rabbits or the rustling of birds. 
Much to her relief, she saw no one during that 
traverse of the wood. But it did not follow that 
because she did not see she was therefore unseen. 

As she turned into the narrow path bordering the 
lake a man rose from the wood’s undergrowth amid 
which he had crouched when her dainty figure ap- 
peared in the alley. 


M2 


Close Quarters 

“ Unless I’m losin’ me eyesight, that’s Mrs. Wa- 
verton,” soliloquized the apparition, who had “ hobo ” 
writ large on face and garments. “ I couldn’t see 
her pretty phiz, bless her little heart ; but I’d swear 
to her walk an’ style among a thousand. Now, 
what’s she after? What’s she doin’ here? The 
papers said — but curse the papers: they mostly tell 
lies. Joe, me boy, you believe your own eyes, an’ 
p’r’aps if you’re lucky, your ears.” 

And with that he followed his quarry, stalking her 
with a wary skill bom of the woodland and the wild. 


143 


CHAPTER IX 


HUSBAND AND WIFE 

Doris Waverton halted at the edge of the wood, 
and gazed wistfully across the smooth plateau of the 
park at the Old World front of the house that 
Claude Waverton’s father had built with treasure ex- 
tracted from the mountains of Colorado. 

Lights were shining dimly in some of the windows ; 
but the house stood out boldly from its background 
of tall trees, and the girl-wife’s eyes filled with tears 
as she looked at the mansion that had witnessed her 
home-coming as a happy bride, in which her child 
was born, and where her dream of wedded bliss had 
been converted into a long agony of utter wretched- 
ness. 

And during that pause, in the peace and solitude 
of the stately park, a doubt, a misgiving, which had 
peeped up in her secret soul at a certain momentous 
interview in the lawyer’s office, and had troubled 
her actively since a letter from her husband came 
to hand a few hours ago, grew into a sort of un- 
nerving obsession. 

Could the man who had written that letter have 
been so utterly vile and contemptible as her imagina- 
tion had painted him? Had she striven, honestly 
144 


Husband and Wife 

and with single-mindedness, to reclaim him when 
they began to drift apart? Had she not been too 
ready to shrink from him with loathing when he 
lurched into her presence and outraged her deli- 
cacy with coarse jibes and crudely hateful innuen- 
does ? 

Poor girl! in the days of expanding maidenhood 
she had regarded marriage as the crown and desire 
of life, and it had proved to be little more than a 
sordid bondage, a slavery of convention hard and 
cruel as the yoke of servitude in some Arab-ridden 
village of mid-Africa. Nevertheless, the influence 
of early training was stubborn. It had not been 
wholly obliterated even by her tears, and the sprig 
of hope and faith that took root in her heart when 
she learned that her scamp of a husband had saved 
little Kathleen’s life grew into a vigorous plant with 
the reading of the letter sent to her at Narragansett 
Pier. 

Studiously moderate and impersonal in tone, it had 
warned her against the insidious arts of John Strat- 
ton Tearle. It pretended to be dictated only by 
regard for her future well-being; but what woman 
would fail to discover in every line a passionate 
longing and regret inspired by herself! Certainly 
it was cold, almost austere, in tone. But there, 
again, her Woman’s heart argued that pride re- 
strained her husband from revealing his true intent. 
For that was the saddest feature of all her suffering. 
Despite the solemn pronouncement of the law, she 
145 


No Other Way 

still regarded Claude Waverton as her husband, and 
Tearle had blundered badly in thinking that her tor- 
tured soul would seek consolation in a second matri- 
monial venture, save under the last and worst in- 
dignity of a marriage between Waverton and Mrs. 
Delamar. 

The letter, it was true, forbade her emphatically 
either to write to or endeavor to seek an interview 
with “ one who has gone out of your life forever 
but, beneath a somewhat frigid manner, poor Doris 
was essentially feminine and impulsive, — a glowing 
little volcano of love and passion coated with the 
ice of reserve, and shrouded perhaps, under a thin 
veil of Puritanism. 

And, finally, there was Kathleen, that engaging 
mite who would soon be asking why, if other girls 
had fathers, she had none! 

So, after a dispute with Mrs. Daunt that ap- 
proached perilously near a rupture between two 
devoted sisters, Doris had taken her courage in both 
hands and hied her to Lake Champlain. And now 
here she was, a trespasser on her husband’s estate, a 
woman eagerly scanning the distant house and 
grounds for the appearance of the man she wished 
to drag out of the pit he had digged for him- 
self. 

She fancied she saw a figure emerging from one 
of the drawing-room windows, which were of the 
French type and opened straight out on a grass 
lawn. Breathing a prayer for guidance in her task, 
146 


Husband and Wife 

she ran the few intervening yards to the boathouse, 
and hid in its deep veranda ; for, on the park side, 
the building served as a summerhouse and dressing- 
shed for polo players or baseball teams. 

She was so intent on attaining her object — to 
remain unseen till Waverton was so near that he 
could not avoid her without literally running away — 
that she had no knowledge of the sinister form that 
crept out of the wood close to the water’s edge, and 
crawled on hands and knees among the tall reeds 
and dwarf willows until it was lying full length close 
to the side rail of the veranda. 

Joe Brett, idler and village scapegrace, realized 
that Mrs. Waverton was waiting for someone. If 
so, it might be to his advantage if he could discover 
the object of this clandestine meeting; for by such 
means a poor man might put himself in the way of 
earning a dollar or two without undue exertion. 
Fearful of being seen against the luminous back- 
ground of the lake, he nestled close to the founda- 
tion wall, and thus could not become aware, till re- 
treat was impossible, that the other party to the 
rendezvous was accompanied by a dog, a dog that 
might be old and lame, but whose nose was as keen 
as ever. 

Waverton reached the path nearly two hundred 
yards from the boathouse, and the slow, firm tread 
of his approaching footsteps could be heard thence- 
forth in that silent air. He was smoking, and Bob 
walked soberly by his side, disdaining the flurry of 
147 


No Other Way 

frightened water-fowl or the quick plunge of a rat 
idiving for safety. The two were abreast of the 
boathouse, when Doris emerged from its shadows. 
Instantly, the dog barked, and his fur bristled on 
neck and spine; but his quick intelligence told him 
that this was no stranger. When he discovered his 
mistress’s identity, he whined with delight, and 
capered stiffly up the few steps of the house to fawn 
on her. 

She quieted Bob with an affectionate hand; but 
her eyes were fixed on her husband, who stood on the 
path as though rooted to it. 

“ Claude ! ” she said, and her voice was tremulous 
with excitement. “ Claude, you must forgive me ; 
but—” 

Then she stopped, overwhelmed and distraught; 
for her husband, whose amazement and distress she 
interpreted as alarm, gasped brokenly, “ You ! Mrs. 
Waverton! Why are you here?” 

She stepped out into the open, and they stood face 
to face, while the dog frisked between them. They 
were near enough to see each other plainly in the 
dusk; though the waning light enabled neither to 
distinguish features and expression with that inti- 
mate acquaintance which a husband and wife must 
possess. 

She trembled in every limb, for the cold aloof- 
ness of those words, “ Mrs. Waverton,” argued 
ill for her achievement; but she forced herself to 
speak. 

148 


Husband and Wife 

44 Claude,” she said again, and her voice was 
strangely sweet and low, 44 1 have ventured to disobey 
your wishes because I felt that if you and I could 
open our hearts freely we might reach an under- 
standing not to be attained by the written word. 
Forgive me, Claude! I am acting for the best, and, 
if you will only listen to what I have to say, I prom- 
ise to obey your final decision, even though you bid 
me go away, and never try to see or speak to you 
again.” 

Waverton raised a hand to his eyes in a gesture of 
pain that was new to his wife’s devouring gaze. 
44 Oh, you should not have done this thing ! ” he mut- 
tered, and his face looked white and drawn; though 
during these later days he had, in the opinion of 
Rice and others, seemed to be recovering his 
strength rapidly. 

44 1 could not help it, Claude,” she pleaded. 
44 Some secret impulse more powerful than myself 
urged me to take the long journey from the coast, 
and not waste a moment before I sought you out.” 

She drew a little nearer, and, gaining confidence, 
looked up at him. How thin and worn he was ! How 
his illness had aged him ! What a different man to 
the bloated, red-faced creature from whom she had 
fled more than a year ago ! Yet suffering had re- 
stored that air of distinction, of refinement, which 
her girlish fancy had found in the bridegroom, only 
to lose all sense of its existence in the man who had 
wrung her very heartstrings by his maltreatment. 

149 


No Other Way 

44 Your letter forbade an answer, I know,” she 
went on with growing earnestness ; 44 but ever since 
you saved our dear Kathleen’s life I could not bring 
myself to believe that we were parted forever. 
Claude, won’t you say something? Must I be forced 
to believe that you really wish to thrust me out of 
your life forever? Indeed, indeed, I am not here to 
reproach you ! Rather would I vow to you and with 
you, on our knees if we mingled our pledges with 
prayers, that the horrid past shall be forgotten, that 
we shall strive to help each other in that forgetting, 
that, in sharing the love of our child, we shall strive 
to blot out memories of all the wrong and misery that 
have gone before. Oh, Claude, do listen to me ! 
Don’t turn away as if your heart was still hardened 
against me. If my words offend, then give no ear to 
their unstudied form, but try to realize that they are 
welling up from the depths of a woman’s nature, a 
woman who is still your wife, and who must ever 
remain the mother of your child.” 

44 Please, please, Mrs. Waverton — Doris — do calm 
yourself ! ” he broke in, and his utterance was husky, 
as if he was fighting against some overpowering 
emotion. 44 1 would have made any sacrifice rather 
than have this happen ! You are distressing yourself 
unduly. I am quite unworthy of such chivalry on 
your part. You must remember what divided us! 
I was wholly to blame, and you would be mad to 
trust yourself again to a man who behaved so 
despicably, so outrageously. I am sober now; but 
150 


Husband and Wife 

I shall go back to the swine-trough — it is in my 
blood, — and then indeed you would have cause to 
bewail your lot! Yet, as I say, I am perforce in 
possession of my senses for the hour; so let me 
apologize for my conduct, and let my regret be the 
measure of my sincerity in urging you to leave me 
now and for all time.” 

Though his wife was strung to a pitch of 
agitation that was almost unbearable, she caught 
some new cadence in his voice, some note of deep 
reverence and unavailing sorrow, that made divinest 
music in her ears. Never before, even in the blithe 
days of wooing, had Claude spoken in that way. 
How he had changed ! His manner with women, even 
at its best, was apt to be truculently jocular; yet 
now he was addressing her as though she were some 
fair goddess whom he had transgressed against be- 
yond hope of mercy. What had caused this miracle? 
Had a soul sprung into being in one who had seemed 
to be coarsest clay ? Her mother’s heart went out to 
him. She longed to take him in her arms, and kiss 
away the needless fear that for him there was no 
forgiveness. 

But she restrained herself, and was content to put 
a timid hand on his arm. 

44 We have at least taken a decisive step when we 
are ready to discuss our troubles,” she said. 44 Dear, 
will you walk with me a little way? There is a seat 
yonder, near the statue of Antinous, where we might 
sit awhile, and talk over the wreck we have made of 
151 


No Other Way 

our lives. I am not hysterical, as you well know. 
I was naturally excited at first ; for I could not guess 
how you would receive me. But now I shall be 
calm. You need not dread the tears which you hate, 
as every man does, I suppose. But, candidly, I 
should like to be seated. I am somewhat tired. It 
has been a wearing day, for my nerves, at any rate, 
and I am sure you will not drive me away now until 
I have told you what is in my mind. Come ! Let me 
tell you first how deeply moved I was by the solicitude 
that breathed through every sentence in your letter. 
It was your right arm that was injured, was it not? 
So I can take this arm while we walk, and then I 
shall be able to speak with more confidence, since you 
cannot escape, as you did at Narragansett Pier, 
while I am holding you.” 

Doris was so sure of her ground now that she 
actually laughed, with the low, hushed coo of a 
woman who has won back an errant husband from 
the slough of sin and despair. But she felt that he 
was trembling, and her eager thought read in this 
sign of physical weakness his doubt whether she 
could really mean what she was saying. 

“ Don’t be so tongue-tied, dear,” she murmured. 
“ I have not come all this long way to annoy and 
perplex you.” 

“ I was thinking that, perhaps, you would prefer 
to go to the house,” he said hoarsely. “You must 
be quite exhausted. If you — had something to eat, 
152 


Husband and Wife 

and went to your room — we could meet in the morn- 
ing — and discuss matters — ” 

She laughed again, little imagining how he was 
searching his brain for some plausible pretext to 
dispose of her for the night until he could plan and 
contrive a way out of the maze in which he was 
entangled. 

44 You forget that although we may still remain 
husband and wife,” even in his dismay he knew that 
she was blushing, and when he stole a look at her 
eyes they were shining like twin stars, 44 we have 
been parted by the law. No, I didn’t mean that to 
hurt,” for a tremor shook him; he was like a nervous 
horse that flinches under the gentlest touch, 44 but I 
shall not stay at the house until — until some later 
day — soon. Mr. and Mrs. Norton have kindly pro- 
vided me with a room. In half an hour, or less, I 
shall bid you good-night. Perhaps you and Bob will 
escort me through the wood. I came that way to 
avoid notice; but it is darker now, and if a rabbit 
popped up under my feet I might scream — ” 

A menacing growl from the dog interfered with 
her rather breathless explanation. Another growl, 
louder and fiercer, caused them to turn and seek its 
cause. Then a man sprang upright near the comer 
of the boathouse, and they heard his startled cry : 

44 Call off your dog, Mr. Waverton. Call him off 
quick! I’ll—” 

Then Doris did scream, in no mock terror, and 
Waverton ran back hurriedly, leaving her standing 

153 


No Other Way 

alone on the path, with a whispered injunction not 
to move. 

44 Heel, Bob ! ” he said sternly. 44 Heel, I say ! 
Now you, you rascal, come out and tell me why you 
were hiding there ! ” 

Joe Brett, by no means abashed, since it fell in 
with his desire that he should be discovered, ap- 
proached warily; for Bob had obeyed orders, but was 
still ready to engage in mortal combat on the slight- 
est provocation. 

44 Beg pardon, mister,” he smirked, 44 but I kind 
o’ happened to be alongside the wall there, by acci- 
dent, as you might say, an’ hearin’ Mrs. W. an’ 
you talkin’ confidential, I thought it best to lie close, 
an’ not interfere.” 

44 You lying hound, you followed Mrs. Waverton 
in the first instance! What was your object? Did 
you mean to rob her? But you shall explain that 
to the sheriff. Walk straight to the house in front 
of me.” 

“Sheriff! Walk to the house! Not me! I 
couldn’t help listenin’! What else have I done, I’d 
like to know ! ” 

“ You will be told that later. Unless you come 
quietly I shall tie you to a post, and send my serv- 
ants to drag you by the scruff of the neck.” 

Brett edged nearer confidentially, and leered at 
Waverton. 

“ Now, look here, boss,” he said, 44 you just listen 
to reason, will you ? At the worst I’m on’y trespass- 
154 


Husband and Wife 

in’, and that doesn’t cut any ice here. But if you go 
jawin’ about sheriffs an’ such like, what about me 
tellin’ every word Mrs. Waverton — ” 

In a cooler moment Waverton would have acted 
differently; but he was afire with a turbulent emo- 
tion that neither his wife nor this lurking ruffian 
had any inkling of. So, without further ado, he 
struck Joe Brett hard and true between the eyes, 
a straight right-arm blow that stretched the eaves- 
dropper like a log on the path. Instantly he re- 
gretted his action, and turned to reassure the fright- 
ened woman. 

66 There is only one way to argue with prowling 
creatures of this type,” he began. 

Then he leaped forward to catch Doris before she 
fell; but he was too late, for she swayed and col- 
lapsed in a dead faint on a small bank of turf that 
ran by the path on the park side. 

Bob was anxious to gnaw his prostrate enemy; 
so, Waverton, holding his wife’s limp form in his 
arms, was compelled to shout an imperative com- 
mand to the dog to leave the man alone. It was a 
distinctly awkward situation, for Bob’s fighting 
blood was roused ; yet Waverton was strangely re- 
luctant to lay his helpless burden on the grass so 
that he might hold the animal until the spy could 
scramble to his feet and slink off. He solved the 
difficulty by lifting Doris bodily off the ground and 
striding away in the direction of the house, mean- 
while calling loudly to the dog to follow. 

155 


No Other Way 

When the astounded ruffian ventured to lift his 
head, Waverton had already carried his wife a con- 
siderable distance, and the setter had gone with him. 
Then Joe Brett tenderly felt the bridge of his nose, 
and produced a soiled handkerchief to mop the dark 
fluid pouring from that damaged organ. He knew, 
too, that when morning dawned he would find him- 
self decorated with a pair of spectacles of Nature’s 
own contriving. But the man’s low organism was 
governed by an innate love of sport, and he was 
actually more concerned with the style and force of 
the blow he had received than with its effects. 

“ Injured right arm, has he, the paralyzin’ dude? ” 
he muttered, scrambling to his feet. “ Well, may I 
go plumb to blazes, if he can hand out that sort of 
punch with the right, what in thunder would have 
happened if he’d dealt me one with the left? ” 

He went to the lake and dabbed water on his 
face; then, hearing voices, he dived into the wood 
and vanished. But his warped mind recurred many 
times to the pugilistic science that lay behind that 
half-arm blow, and he even waxed enthusiastic over it 
next day when Rice was sent to the village with a 
ten-dollar bill as a solace for the unknown man “ who 
had accidentally sustained two black eyes on the 
Waverton place the previous night.” 

Rice argued that Brett had been mistaken — Mr. 
Claude must have used his left hand. 

Whereat the rascal laughed scornfully. “ D’ye 
think I don’t know how he hit me? ” he said. “ That’s 

156 


Husband and Wife 

a jim dandy of a tale, that is! I can take chances 
meself when the other fellar doesn’t prance into the 
argyment like an injia-rubber mule; but take my 
tip, mister, if Mr. Claude G. Waverton ever sets 
about you, dodge his left, or he’ll knock you bug- 
house, he will, straight ! ” 

The valet was puzzled. Waverton’s only ac- 
quaintance with the noble art during recent years had 
been confined to a fairly regular attendance at those 
New York and Brooklyn entertainments in which 
prize-fighters hammered each other cheerfully with 
four-ounce gloves. But watching these events is 
not boxing. It was manifestly impossible for a man 
whose right hand could neither hold a pen nor press 
the keys of a typewriter to blacken the eyes and 
bruise the nose of a hard-featured rascal like Brett 
with that same member. 

Still, he did not give much heed to the matter. 
His thoughts were engrossed by more important de- 
velopments. He had seen Waverton crossing the 
park, and was wondering what measure of success 
had attended Mrs. Waverton’s ruse to waylay her 
husband, when he heard the dog’s uproar, and he 
fancied he could distinguish his master’s voice raised 
in anger. Hardly knowing why he ventured to 
interfere, he hurried out of the house and across the 
garden. Then he distinguished something unusual 
in the aspect of an approaching figure; but before 
he could make out what was happening Doris had 
recovered her senses and was on her feet again. 
157 


No Other Way 

Woman’s first thought is given to her appearance, 
and Doris had scarcely realized her whereabouts be- 
fore her hand traveled mechanically to hat and hair. 

44 Oh, how utterly foolish of me to break down 
like that ! ” she almost sobbed. 44 But I was so fright- 
ened, and I imagined that you would be hurt in a 
scuffle with that dreadful man. Where is he ? ” 

Then she looked round, and discovered that she 
was standing nearly halfway between house and lake. 

44 How did I g'et here?” she cried, utterly be- 
wildered. 44 Did you carry me? But how was that 
possible, when you are so weak? ” 

She broke off with a fresh cry of alarm, because 
Rice came panting up, and Waverton grasped des- 
perately at the opportunity that presented itself. 

44 Not a word before the servants, Doris,” he 
muttered. 44 Leave matters as they are till the morn- 
ing. I promise you they will be gone into thor- 
oughly then. Let Rice take you to the dining-room, 
where he will bring you a glass of wine, and by the 
time a carriage is ready you will be feeling all right 
again. You won’t mind if I go straight to my room, 
will you? There is not so much of you that I could 
not have carried you a mile if I were in good form; 
but I was badly broken up at Palm Beach, you 
know — ” 

He ended lamely, for the explanation was curi- 
ously labored ; but Doris, tearful, bubbling over with 
joy, yet distressed by the outcome of her momentary 
weakness, fell in with his suggestions willingly. 
158 


Husband and Wife 

Rice, keeping discreetly in the background, was de- 
lighted by the manner and speech of husband and 
wife as they walked together to the house. He was 
somewhat taken aback when he found that Mrs. 
Waverton was left to his care when they reached 
the interior ; but her smiling face reassured him, and 
she thanked him very sweetly for all that he had done 
as he ushered her past an astounded footman in the 
hall, and saw her safely into the waiting carriage. 

Next morning, about ten o’clock, he was intrusted 
with the mission of searching for and placating Joe 
Brett, and Waverton also handed him a letter. 

“ You will be passing the parsonage,” he said. 
“ Leave that for Mrs. Waverton. There is no an- 
swer, and I should prefer, if possible, that you should 
not hold any communication with her.” 

The words struck chill on the valet’s warm heart; 
but he soon hugged the belief that his master was 
only feeling ill and wretched as the outcome of ex- 
periences overnight. Nevertheless, his first impres- 
sion was the right one; for the letter that Waverton 
had written to his wife conveyed the most flagrant 
insult that he could inflict on the woman who had 
surrendered all that she held best and holiest for 
his sake. It read: 

Dear Doris. — I was unwilling last night to blurt out a fact 
that must have altered the whole tone of your words. You 
were so excited and unnerved that I am sure you will credit 
me with displaying, at least, some regard for your feelings 
when I withheld the plain statement I make now, namely, 
that I intend to marry Mrs. Delamar at an early date. You 

159 


No Other Way 

know why I have persistently refused to meet you since you 
gave me my freedom and obtained your own. In warning you 
against Tearle, I was only trying to do you a good turn. 
Need I say more? Sincerely, 

Claude Waverton. 

P. S. — I cannot do other than type this note. Would you 
mind burning it? Let its ashes mingle with those of any 
projects you may have formed as the outcome of last night’s 
useless and painful scene. 

At first Doris refused to accept the evidence of 
her physical senses. She held in her hands and read 
with her eyes a document so curt and unbelievable 
that her benumbed brain declined to assimilate a 
word of it. Three times did she peruse it in vain 
effort to realize its full significance. Her face, 
deathly pale for some minutes, suddenly became suf- 
fused with color when she recalled certain passages 
of the conversation by the side of the lake. She 
grew dimly aware, too, of the restraint, the half 
hints, the desperate anxiety to be rid of her com- 
pany, on her husband’s part, which were now fully 
revealed by what he called a “ plain statement ” of 
his intentions. What a fool she had been, and how 
he had punished her for her folly! 

There were no tears now; she was a prey to no 
feelings save shame and hot indignation. Burn 
Claude Waver ton’s letter! Never! Rather would 
she keep it as a reminder, if ever such were needed 
again, that she must exercise some degree of com- 
monsense in her dealings with a man who had the 
nature of a boor in the guise of a gentleman. 

160 


Husband and Wife 

She bade good-by to her puzzled and sympathetic 
friends at the parsonage, crossed the lake to Burling- 
ton, where she had lunch with a friend, and caught 
the next train for New York, telling herself that she 
had shaken the dust of Saginaw off her feet forever. 
Women, especially young women, are apt to use these 
words 44 never ” and 44 forever ” somewhat carelessly ; 
but certainly in Doris Elstead’s case (no more of 
44 Mrs. Waverton ” for her !) they seemed to be war- 
ranted by the circumstances. 

Her unappreciative husband did not seem to be 
enjoying the rebuff he had given his wife. As a 
villain he was a failure. He neither smoked the 
callous cigarette nor chuckled over a woman’s dis- 
tress. Indeed, he sat very still in the library, look- 
ing out over the park, ignoring the mild question 
in Bob’s upraised eyes ; for the sun shone gloriously, 
and there would seldom be a better day for roaming 
the woods. 

When Rice returned, he reported the placating of 
Joe Brett. 

44 And now,” said his master, giving the valet a 
look under which Rice squirmed, 44 1 assume that 
someone in this house, probably you, knew 
that Mrs. Waverton would be in the park last 
night ? ” 

44 Yes, sir,” came the honest answer. 

44 1 thought so. Well, I forgive that sort of thing 
once, because it may have been inspired by good 
intent; but the next time I am trapped in such 

161 


No Other Way 

fashion those responsible for it, or helping it in any 
way, will leave my service. Is that clear? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Waverton said no more. He went to the type- 
writer, and rattled off a brief note to Steingall, in 
which he recounted the incidents of the meeting and 
pointed out that he could not think of interfering 
further in Mrs. Waverton’s affairs. 

This attempt has been a sad bungle [he wrote.] I thought 
it better to appeal temperately to her than raise a row with 
Tearle; but I was wrong. I have never understood women, 
and, as the outcome of my disinterested endeavor to save Mrs. 
Waverton from another scoundrel, I found myself compelled 
to lie to her this morning. She believes now that I mean to 
marry Mrs. Delamar. Still, as a man is free to exercise a 
feminine privilege, and change his mind, I shall be glad to 
hear from you if there is any real chance of Tearle’s winning 
Mrs. Waverton’s affections — on the rebound, as it were. It 
may be my wish, as it would certainly be my duty, to stop a 
crime of that magnitude. 

Steingall was bending his brows over this enig- 
matical note, and nibbling his mustache in a vain 
effort to reconcile its rather contradictory senti- 
ments, when a telegram was brought to him. 

It was from Clancy, at Palm Beach, and it read: 

Remarkable developments here. Keep clear of Clo-Clo. 
Connection established with purchase of crystals. 

Then the chief inspector whistled, and he read 
Waverton’s letter again; for he saw it in a new 
light. 


162 


CHAPTER X 


A TURN OF THE SCREW AND TWO TURNS OF THE 

WHEEL 

Clancy meant to stop the growth of confidential 
relations between Claude Waverton and the bureau, 
because he had good ground for believing that the 
man might yet figure in court side by side with 
Josephine Delamar. If that thrilling denouement 
came about, Mrs. Delamar would be charged with 
the murder of her husband, and Waverton would 
be called on to disprove that he was “ an accessory 
before the fact.” 

Even if his innocence of that particular crime were 
established, he might be indicted for another grave 
offense; and, in either event, he was officially unde- 
sirable as a friend. But, to understand Clancy’s at- 
titude on this point, it is necessary to follow the 
little man’s adventures in Florida. 

He called first on the chief of police at Palm 
Beach, and persuaded that functionary to set on 
foot an inquiry as to whether any person had pur- 
chased a considerable quantity of crystals of nico- 
tine from a local drugstore during the last year. 

With regard to any ordinary drug of a poisonous 
nature, such a wide cast of the net might have de- 
feated its own purpose; but crystals of nicotine was 
163 


No Other Way 

a rare poison. It was more than likely that the 
great majority of the Palm Beach druggists had 
never so much as heard of it, while those who did 
recognize it, and had dispensed it, would surely have 
some record or memory of the customer. 

Then he set forth to interview Drs. Bentley and 
Mercier. Dr. Bentley was a fussy little man, a 
Bostonian, a wonderfully adroit surgeon; but so full 
of the present that he could only deal in generalities 
as to the past. 

He remembered the Waverton accident, of course; 
but was inclined to dismiss it in a sentence. It had 
no points. The man had been stunned, and his cuts 
demanded a stitch or two; but the affair was noth- 
ing serious, a mere bagatelle. Now, he had a case the 
other day, when a rock fell on an Italian at work in a 
quarry, in which a splinter of granite had lodged 
itself between the paracentral lobule and the precu- 
neus — now, that was a most beautiful — No, he had 
not examined the injuries of the poor fellow killed 
by the car. One did not trouble about those already 
dead. As for Waverton, he was scratched — nothing 
more. 

Clancy was most polite, and bowed himself out 
with fluent apologies for wasting the time of a busy 
practitioner ; but he came away with the poorest 
estimate of Dr. Bentley’s paracentral lobule ; he 
even went so far as to despise the doctor’s precuneus. 
But in Dr. Mercier he found a man of different 
metal, — a thin, lantern- jawed, hollow-eyed South- 
164 ? 


A Turn of the Screw 

erner, hailing from New Orleans, like Clancy him- 
self a half Frenchman, and one who could theorize 
and give chapter and verse for his beliefs. 

Yes, he had conducted the post-mortem examina- 
tion on the body of Scott, tutor to the family of 
Don Miguel Santander, formerly of Rosala, in the 
Argentine. The man’s head had been flattened like 
a pancake. 

“Was the paracentral lobule damaged?” Clancy 
could not help asking. 

Dr. Mercier had bushy eyebrows, and they curved 
now disdainfully. “ My dear sir,” he snapped, “ the 
man’s brain was in a pulp down to the corpus cal- 
losum.” 

Clancy looked grave. “ In that event,” he said, 
“ he must have been struck while the car was travel- 
ing at terrific speed.” 

The doctor brightened again at that remark. “ It 
was an amazing injury,” he cried, “ the sort of 
complete organic obliteration one would expect to 
find after a railway collision; but not as the result 
of a pedestrian being hit by an automobile. Indeed, 
bearing in mind the exact locality of the accident, I 
should have imagined that the thing was impossible, 
except under conditions that, to our knowledge, did 
not obtain.” 

Clancy sighed with relief, and resolved to curb 
his sarcastic tongue ; for Mercier would say things if 
encouraged. “ Will you explain that remark more 
fully, doctor ? ” he said. “ I am deeply interested, 
165 


No Other Way 

and I want to grasp this case in all its bear- 
ings.” 

Mercier hesitated, and the detective was afraid 
he meant to be careful in his statements. But the 
doctor only looked at his watch, and said deter- 
minedly, “ I am due at the hospital within an hour ; 
but they must wait a few minutes. My automobile 
is at the door. Let us jump in. I can demonstrate 
my meaning much more clearly on the spot.” 

Clancy almost chortled with delight; for he had 
found in this man a thinker, who, quite unacquainted 
with the peculiar features of the Waverton case 
generally, had discovered that there were discrep- 
ancies in that minor phase of it which had come under 
his notice professionally. 

Fortunately, a pleasant southwesterly breeze tem- 
pered the excessive heat of Florida in July, and 
Clancy was able to enjoy to the utmost the drive 
along the coast road. This fine thoroughfare, which 
has not been in existence many years, follows the 
surf line throughout the greater part of its length. 
Of course, there are straight sections, where speed- 
ing would be practicable; but none save a lunatic 
or a joy-rider would exceed a pace of twelve miles 
an hour with automobile or bicycle round many of the 
curves. 

Halfway to Boynton, the car crossed the rail- 
road track, descended a slight gradient round a 
bend so sharp that each length of twenty yards 
of roadway was hidden from the next one by a bulg- 
166 


A Turn of the Screw 

ing wall of tropical vegetation, and pulled up at 
the tip of a small promontory. From this point was 
attainable a delightful view of the coast; but Dr. 
Mercier was too engrossed in the inquiry in hand to 
call his companion’s attention to the picturesque 
scenery. 

“ Here,” he said, indicating a newly repaired por- 
tion of an embankment wall on the seaward side of 
the road, “ here you have the spot where the car was 
wrecked. The front near wheel was crushed, and the 
bonnet damaged ; but the remainder of the chassis was 
not interfered with. In fact, the vehicle was bought 
by a local garage, and is running to-day after 
undergoing repairs. But it overturned in a very 
awkward spot. You see, it was almost jammed 
against a telegraph pole, and, if the driver were 
seated behind the wheel in the ordinary way, his head 
might well have been crushed like an eggshell.” 

Clancy drew a deep breath; but he was resolved 
to let the doctor tell his story in his own way. 
“ What exactly do you mean? ” he demanded. 

“Don’t you see? The victim, who, according to 
my theory, should have escaped most lightly, namely, 
the man on the road, striving vainly to avoid a 
foolish motorist, had half his head taken off, while 
the driver of the automobile, who might really have 
been injured in that way, was flung clear over the 
wall and dropped on those rocks beneath, where his 
fall was broken by the guava tree. Now, I should 
have expected to find the pedestrian down there; but 

167 


No Other Way 

the exact reverse happened, or is supposed to have 
happened.” 

“ Just so,” said Clancy. “ You have formed a 
theory, I suppose ? ” 

“ No, not a theory ; but I am puzzled,” and the 
deep-set eyes burned with enthusiasm. “ I saw the 
milkseller who first reported the accident, and the 
patrolman who was first on the scene, and both men 
said that Scott’s body was lying close to the wall, 
while Waverton had been picked up from that rock 
down there,” and he pointed to a boulder thirty feet 
below, on the very lip of a sinkhole, its stagnant 
water hidden by plants. 66 1 was more concerned at 
first with the injuries sustained by the living man; 
but, thinking about the affair later, I saw that the 
real problem was offered by the dead man. I fell in 
with the coroner’s theory, that the wayfarer had 
been crushed between the wall and the auto ; but, 
happening to pass the place nearly a month after- 
ward, I was struck by the vagaries of the accident, 
and made it my business to interview the earliest 
witness. I came again next day with a magnify- 
ing glass — and what do you think I found?” 

“ Marks on the telegraph pole ! ” cried Clancy, 
who was growing excited. 

“Yes — tiny shreds of wool from a motoring- 
cap.” 

“ Which had been worn by Claude G. Waverton? ” 

“ Precisely.” 

“ And the other man’s hat? ” 

168 


A Turn of the Screw 

44 My friend, it was never picked up. Probably he 
was bareheaded. It was his habit to go uncovered, 
and always to moon about alone by night, I am 
told.” 

46 But it was his head that was supposed to have 
been crushed ? ” 

44 The head that was crushed was undoubtedly in- 
side that hat.” 

44 Where was the cap found?” 

44 On the rocks, near Waverton. It was soaked with 
blood inside.” 

44 Dr. Mercier, you are admirable ! 99 

44 Mr. Clancy, I see now why New York avails 
herself of your intelligence.” 

Instantly Clancy went off into French without 
being aware of the fact. 44 Of course you are aware, 
Monsieur, of the immense possibilities bound up in 
this 4 puzzle 5 of yours ? 99 

44 It reaches far, mon vieux! ” 

44 You have not spoken of it to any other per- 
son?” 

44 1 tried to interest Dr. Bentley; but failed.” 

44 Ah, that Bentley ! Poof ! ” And Clancy 
snapped his fingers. 

44 Parfaitement! ” Dr. Mercier glowed. 44 Dr. 
Bentley is a genius with the knife, — he can amputate 
a limb at one cut, — so,” here came illustrative panto- 
mime on Clancy’s arm, 44 but his brain is mostly built 
up of undeveloped cells.” 

44 The police — have they heard?” 

169 


No Other Way 

“ Not a word ! You understand, the case is closed, 
and everybody is satisfied. I have no wish to be 
branded as a lunatic. In fact, monsieur, I was about 
to ask — ” 

“ Without your unquestionable permission, my 
lips are sealed — on my honor, monsieur.” 

The two men, who had been dancing about each 
other in half circles, bowed solemnly, — Steingall 
would have sacrificed a week’s salary to have seen 
them, — then Dr. Mercier looked at his watch. 

44 Great Scott ! ” he cried, coming back to Florida 
and the English language once more, 44 half-past 
three ! All aboard, my friend ! I must fly ! ” 

44 With your permission, doctor, I shall remain 
here and consult the genius loci,” said Clancy. 

Mercier laughed, and disappeared in a swirl of 
dust. 

The detective sat on the wall, at the precise spot 
where it had been rebuilt, humped his shoulders, took 
a broken cigar from his waistcoat pocket and sniffed 
it, and allowed his eyes to wander from the telegraph 
pole to the guava tree, and back again. 

He remained there till the sun scorched his back; 
then he too produced a high-powered lens, and ex- 
amined the stout pole that had aroused Dr. Mercier’s 
curiosity. Sure enough, he came upon minute par- 
ticles of white cotton, clustered roughly in a circle 
about three feet from the ground, while there seemed 
to be signs of a blow on the hard wood at that 
place. 


170 


A Turn of the Screw 

He hailed a passing wagon, and rode into Palm 
Beach, where he ate a meal at a restaurant. 

He saw an absconding bankrupt from Wall Street 
lunching with an Italian, and the faces of both men 
turned greenish white when they recognized him. 
Clancy nodded, smiled, and turned away. He had 
other fish to fry ; but the pair could not collect their 
wits during the next five minutes. 

When he had eaten, the detective called at police 
headquarters. Yes, there was news of crystals of 
nicotine. A Spaniard who kept a drugstore on 
Everglades Avenue had obtained an ounce for some 
mad New Yorker who said he wanted the drug for 
chemical research, the chief of police thought, but 
could not say positively. 

44 Have you the buyer’s name ? ” demanded 
Clancy, and, somehow, he almost anticipated the 
reply. 

“ Yes, here it is. Claude G. Waverton, care of 
Mrs. Delamar, Asphodel House.” Then the chief 
struck his forehead with an open palm, quite a hearty 
smack. 44 Search me,” he cried, 44 if that isn’t the 
lunatic who nearly killed himself in an auto on the 
Boynton Road after winning a stack of money at 
Schwartz’s place about three months ago. Now I 
remember! Has he been poisoning somebody? ” 

44 One can hardly say yet ; but the information is 
of the utmost value.” 

Conscious of a curious singing in his ears, Clancy 
obtained the name and address of the chemist, thanked 

171 


No Other Way 

the official, and went out into the comparatively 
cool night air. He wanted to be alone, to think long 
and deeply, to fit in the pieces of a mosaic that was 
already assuming a pattern at once fantastic and 
easily decipherable. 

Early next morning he was at the drugstore, a 
well-appointed establishment in an old part of the 
town; in fact, the last place where a gadabout like 
Curly Waverton would be seen shopping in Palm 
Beach if he had not meant to avoid the society 
promenades always to be met with in the fashion- 
able quarters. 

Nevertheless, he had attempted no secrecy in buy- 
ing nearly an ounce of deadly poison. He gave his 
name and address, assigned for a reason for acquir- 
ing such dangerous stuff that he wished to get rid 
of the rats on board his yacht, and was content to 
wait a week till the quantity he needed was obtained 
from New York. 

“Would you recognize Waverton again if you 
saw him ? ” demanded Clancy. 

“ I t’ink so,” said the Spaniard, who spoke broken 
English under compulsion. “ He was Americano, 
ver’ mosh ; but I remembare heem ver’ well.” 

Then Clancy telegraphed the message to Stein- 
gall that had supplied a strange addendum to Waver- 
ton’s letter. 

The detective traveled straight to New York by 
the first train. He went to the Waldorf-Astoria, 
and inquired for Don Miguel Santander, that emi- 
17 ^ 


A Turn of the Screw 

nent Argentino having deferred his departure for 
Europe because a revolution had broken out in the 
neighborhood of Rosala. 

Clancy’s interview with the stockraiser took a pe- 
culiar turn, — it dealt entirely with the recent history 
of the dead tutor, Charles Scott, to whom Don 
Miguel gave an exemplary character. 

“ I met him at Buenos Ayres six years ago,” he 
explained. “ In fact he came to see me, a friend 
having told him that I wanted an American tutor for 
my children. Americans of education and good ad- 
dress who will take on that sort of employment are 
not plentiful in the Argentine; so I was glad to 
secure Senor Scott’s services, especially as life was 
rather quiet on my estates, where I breed cattle and 
horses.” 

“ Where had Scott been engaged previously ? ” 
asked Clancy. 

“ On a rubber plantation in Brazil, far inland, in 
a very wild part. He had contracted fever there, 
and was compelled to seek some less exposed occupa- 
tion.” 

“ Had he been there long? Did he ever speak of 
his past life? ” 

“ I never questioned him, and he was a singularly 
reserved man in some respects. But my wife and I 
thought very highly of him, and my children adored 
him. They weep even now when his name is men- 
tioned.” 

“ Did you see him after the accident? ” 

173 


No Other Way 

Don Miguel shuddered. “ Ah,” he said, “ it was 
pitiful, frightful!” 

46 But you recognized him ! ” 

44 It was hardly possible, were it not for his papers 
and his clothing.” 

44 Pardon me, sir, but do you return to Rosala?” 

44 Certainly, in November, or, since my visit to 
Europe is postponed, it may be in April.” 

44 And, if Scott had lived, would he have gone 
with you ? ” 

44 Without doubt. He often said that when the 
little ones were grown up he would ask me for a post 
in connection with the estate.” 

44 Would you have given him one?” 

44 With the greatest pleasure and confidence.” 

44 He was quite denationalized, then? He had no 
wish to return to the States? ” 

44 With us he was happy. But — ” 

44 1 have the most urgent reason for these in- 
quiries, sir. Suppose it were possible that a strange 
error had been made, — suppose Scott were living, — 
you and other members of your family would know 
him again and be glad to see him ? ” 

The Spaniard smiled sadly. 44 1 repeat that he 
lived with us as a friend for six years, and he has 
been dead hardly ten weeks. Believe me, senor, I 
would pay a very large sum to see Senor Scott alive 
and in good health.” 

44 And you would take him back with you to 
Bosala, put full faith in him once more? ” 

174 


A Turn of the Screw 

Don Miguel knew he was talking to a trusted 
emissary of the New York Detective Bureau, or he 
might have shown the anger he felt at this stupid 
question. As it was, he contented himself with an 
emphatic 44 yes.” 

44 One minute more and I have done,” said Clancy. 
44 Have you a photograph of Scott?” 

44 He always refused to be photographed. He 
used to explain laughingly that he was a Moham- 
medan with regard to wine and portraits. If you 
drive me to it, I must tell you my secret belief. I 
think Senor Scott broke with his world for some 
youthful fault, and asked nothing better than to be 
left in peace in a strange land. I think — indeed, I 
am sure — he was an aristocrat, and for that reason 
he never went outside my house at Palm Beach by 
daylight, lest he should meet some old acquaint- 
ance.” 

44 Thank you, Don Miguel,” said Clancy gravely. 

The detective sought his own out-of-the-way apart- 
ment. There he sat motionless for hours, building 
up, stone by stone, a new and amazing version of 
the Waverton case. 

That afternoon he was closeted with Steingall in 
the latter’s room at Headquarters, and, after a long 
and earnest consultation, the two waited on the Com- 
missioner. Here at last was a development that jus- 
tified the New York Detective Bureau in taking offi- 
cial notice of the Waverton case, a development in- 
dependent of the mysterious death of Kyrle, but 
175 


No Other Way 

which gave an excuse for investigating that death, 
Mrs. Delamar being the connecting link between the 
two. The matter was also laid before the District 
Attorney of New York County, who agreed that 
the circumstances warranted his taking up the mat- 
ter, and he detailed one of his assistants, Mr. Forbes, 
to look after the legal side of the investigation. 
The authorities of Atlantic City were given such 
information as was considered necessary to explain 
the interest of New York officials in the case. 
Clancy was formally detailed for special duty. 

The detectives dined together at a quiet cafe, 
where the proprietor was an Italian and several mem- 
bers of his staff were avowed anarchists; but the 
cooking was excellent, and the meal was served in a 
quiet, upstairs corner room, where the two could 
have a certain degree of privacy. 

Clancy’s order for the wine caused his chief’s 
eyebrows to lift. “ My dear Charles,” he said, “ you 
must have found a wad at Palm Beach.” 

“I economized on meals during the double jour- 
ney, and I feel like blowing myself on a big bottle 
to-night ! ” 

“ But—” 

“ No protests, please. I felt that the key of this 
case would be found in Palm Beach, and I was not 
wrong. That little doctor man is a pocket marvel. 
If we were really an up-to-date nation, we’d hire 
him for life as medical expert to the bureau.” 

They could hear the waiter halfway up the stairs 

176 


A Turn of the Screw 

vociferating instructions about a inn frappe; so 
Steingall dropped his voice to a murmur. 

“ If Waverton is Scott, who is Scott? ” he asked. 

“ We must ask him.” 

“ Queer thing his wife didn’t have any suspicion 
of the truth. His own letter proves that he was 
driven to extremities by her willingness to let by- 
gones be bygones. Poor devil! He is an honorable 
man, too, Charles.” 

“ Don Miguel was clear on that point.” 

“ The more one looks into this affair the greater 
tangle it presents. If Waverton is Scott; then it 
was not Scott, but Waverton who bought the 
poison.” 

“ We must secure the drugstore merchant for the 
adjourned inquest. Mrs. Delamar’s face will be a 
picture when she learns that she has been hum- 
bugged.” 

“ But this later edition of Waverton perforce 
takes the other fellow’s misdeeds on his shoulders. 
And how can he explain away the crystals of nico- 
tine? Will he own up? ” 

“ If he is the man I estimate him, he will die 
first.” 

“ Dash it all ! we don’t want to drive him to sui- 
cide.” 

“ We won’t. We must get Mrs. Waverton to help. 
She will bring him to his knees. Ah! Here are the 
hors d'ceuvres and the wine. Felice stocks the best 
olives in New York. Some day he will be appre- 
177 


No Other Way 

dated at his true worth, and then he will be made 
manager of the Ritz-Carlton or Sherry’s. Mean- 
while, here’s to next Wednesday!” and Clancy emp- 
tied a glass of champagne. 

It was a singular toast ; but Steingall honored it. 
On the day named, Clancy would be in Atlantic City, 
attending the adjourned inquest. 


178 


CHAPTER XI 


AN OFFICIAL CONSPIRACY 

Waverton believed now that he had shaken off 
the undesirable attentions of two women in whom 
he was no longer interested; but, despite his suc- 
cess in that direction, the rest cure was sadly in- 
terfered with. In the first instance, he had pur- 
chased a new motor-car, not an imported racer, in 
which he had been so unlucky at Palm Beach, but a 
car of American design and manufacture. It dif- 
fered in so many details from the Italian machine 
that he had practically to learn its features like a 
novice. Nor would he drive it himself, except where 
the roads were free from traffic. 

“ I am afraid I have lost my nerve,” he explained 
to the chauffeur, a Frenchman highly recommended 
by the firm that supplied the car. “ I should be in 
difficulties if any crisis occurred, and, in any case, 
my right wrist is still incapable of manipulating the 
clutch lever and brake.” 

The other servants did not know that their master 
had specifically asked for a non-English-speaking 
chauffeur, preferably French, and the man himself 
was so unaccustomed to the mechanism of the new 
car that he did not regard Waverton’s questions 
concerning it as altogether strange on the lips of 

179 


No Other Way 

an experienced motorist. Moreover, he was so 
pleased at securing an employer who spoke his lan- 
guage fluently that this consideration outweighed 
all others, while this same language difficulty shut 
him out from the severe analysis of word and deed 
that the servants’ hall applies to the superior beings 
who inhabit the rest of the house. 

Still, Armand could not help noticing that when 
“ Monsieur ” protested with a laugh one morning 
that he really must conquer his nervousness, and 
proceeded to drive the car out of an inclosed yard 
into the park, Waverton’s actions were somewhat 
amateurish, and a turn through a gateway was made 
so sharply that a sheet of notepaper stuck on one 
of the posts would have scraped the paint off a 
mud-guard. Things went better in the open road. 
Waverton amused himself by testing the various 
speeds, the accelerator, the oil and petrol supply, and 
the brakes, and seemed to enjoy the experience. 
After an hour’s experimenting, which Armand had 
to check occasionally, the owner handed over control. 
It was his habit mostly to sit by the chauffeur’s 
side when they went out among the hills for an ex- 
tended run, while Bob lolled luxuriously in the ton- 
neau. He chatted more freely than ever on this 
occasion, remarking that he hoped soon to be able to 
trust himself in the midst of other vehicles once more. 

Armand would have given little heed to the inci- 
dent had he not chanced to see his master schooling 
a young horse over some hurdles early next day. 

180 


An Official Conspiracy 

For many minutes he watched in silence a display 
of consummate horsemanship. Then he laughed. 

“Nerves? Pouf!” he said, and went off to the 
garage to readjust a crank that was a shade more 
eccentric than it was intended to be. 

Another hindrance to complete forgetfulness, 
which Waverton seemed to confuse with lack of 
memory, was the way in which his discarded wife 
had stamped her individuality on the country house 
during her brief residence there. In the drawing- 
room, which he seldom entered, the very arrange- 
ment of the furniture and general appointments were 
eloquent of a woman’s taste and sense of beauty. 
When he crossed the hall, which was noted for its 
old oak, its trophies, and its leather jacks, — not 
the drinking cups known by that name, but the 
quilted leather coats worn by Governor John Win- 
throp’s foot soldiers in the early part of the seven- 
teenth century, — he could not help seeing Doris 
Waverton’s portrait, a full-length Sargent, which 
smiled at him from a well-lighted half landing. 

This picture was a wedding present to Doris from 
her father, and had been scheduled by her lawyers 
as part of the personal property that must be re- 
turned to her. In fact, a representative of Mowlem 
& Wrench was expected to put in an appearance 
any day with a van and a formidable list of articles 
to be removed, and Waverton had given instructions 
that, if he happened to be out, the butler was to 
check the list and expedite the agent’s task. 

181 


No Other Way 

When he began to take an interest in the gardens, 
he encountered the same feminine influence every- 
where. The head gardener was surprised to see his 
employer recalling old vines and vanished trees, but 
oblivious of changes effected since his marriage. 
Still, the household was profoundly pleased to note 
the change in “ Mr. Claude,” the familiar name hav- 
ing survived the elder Waverton’s death, and deep 
and very much mistaken were the guesses hazarded 
as to the cause of the appearance and sudden dis- 
appearance of his divorced wife, which could not 
long remain a secret in the small community of Sagi- 
naw. Waverton, of course, read the hopes of his 
retainers in every guarded reference to “ Mrs. 
Waverton ” evoked by his question ; but the only re- 
sult was that he withdrew into his shell, and, except- 
ing Armand and a stable hand or two, seemed to 
avoid his own servants. 

Then, on the Saturday following Doris Waver- 
ton’s abrupt departure, her husband was stung into 
active resentment. When he came in to breakfast 
after a fast canter through the woods and along 
the shore of the lake, he was greeted uproariously 
by Bob, who could not share in these excursions and 
vastly preferred the automobile; but the sight of 
an official looking document among his few letters 
stopped the usual romp with the dog. 

It was a request that he should attend “ the ad- 
journed inquest touching the death of Herbert Wid- 
lake Kyrle,” to be held at Atlantic City “ at eleven 
18 2 


An Official Conspiracy 

o’clock a.m. the following Wednesday, as he would 
be asked to give evidence in certain matters deemed 
essential to the inquiry.” 

This was bad enough ; but his face grew very 
stormy indeed when he opened another letter, and 
found that 44 Yours ever, John S. Tearle,” happened 
to be in Albany for the week-end, and meant to run 
up to Saginaw and visit 44 My dear Curly ” in- 
formally. 

44 Bring me a railroad folder, quick! ” shouted the 
angry recipient to a decorous footman. 44 And send 
Rice here instantly ! ” he added, as the man was 
hurrying out. 

Between Rice and the railroad schedule it was 
soon ascertained that a telegram could hardly reach 
the hotel from which Tearle had written in time to 
prevent his departure by the early train (he had 
announced his intention to arrive that day); never- 
theless, a curt message was sent on the off chance. 

44 Now, you must meet the train at the depot, 
Rice,” said Waverton when a messenger had gone 
with the telegram, 44 and tell this fellow, Tearle, that 
he will not be admitted if he comes here.” 

The valet’s hand rose automatically to his mouth. 
44 Rather a difficult thing to say, sir,” he commented. 

44 Put it any way you like, — say that I am ill, and 
forbidden by the doctor to receive visitors; rig up 
any explanation that will send him off, and keep 
him away for good.” 

44 Perhaps I had better suggest, Mr. Claude, that 

183 


No Other Way 

he should travel on to Plattsburg in the same train, 
and by that means catch the southbound express.” 

“ Capital ! But be firm ! Don’t let him remain 
in Saginaw. Of course, he may disbelieve you, and 
insist on leaving the train; so tell Riggs the butler 
and the others that Mr. Tearle is not to be admitted 
to the house, in any event.” 

Drastic measures, these, but Rice carried them 
out to the letter. As he anticipated, Tearle was in 
the train, the telegram having arrived too late to 
stop his departure from Albany; so the valet pre- 
faced a somewhat delicate mission by asking hur- 
riedly if he had not received the message. 

“ No,” said Tearle, at the same time signaling a 
porter to come and remove his portmanteau. 44 What 
was it about? ” 

44 Mr. Claude regrets, sir, that he cannot put you 
up at 4 The Dene.’ ” 

44 Not put me up! What nonsense! He is alone, 
and the place is a regular hotel. I have heard some- 
thing of his new whim ; so I must come and see for 
myself what is the matter with him.” 

44 You will not be admitted, sir,” said Rice re- 
spectfully, but signing to the porter that his assist- 
ance would not be needed. 

Then John Stratton Tearle condescended to give 
a serious ear to the smooth-spoken Rice. 44 What 
the deuce are you talking about ? ” he demanded 
fiercely. 

44 Mr. Waverton’s orders, sir.” Then Rice played 
184s 


An Official Conspiracy 

his trump card, and dropped his voice to a con- 
fidential note. 44 I don’t mind telling you, sir, as 
the hoccasion is hextra, that Mr. Claude an’ his 
wife will probably make up their little differences, 
an’ he is turnin’ ’is back on hall his hold friends, 
just to please her.” 

The shot went home, as Rice meant that it should. 
The red-faced Tearle grew purple ; but he man- 
aged to splutter, 44 You are talking nonsense, 
man ! ” 

44 No, sir. It’s the truth. Mrs. Waverton kem 
’ere ’erself last Monday, an’ she may be in residence 
any day now.” 

Tearle was aware of Doris’s departure from Nar- 
ragansett Pier early the previous Sunday, and not 
all his diplomacy had extracted from Mrs. Daunt 
any information as to her whereabouts. He him- 
self had been summoned to New York on Wednesday 
by Mrs. Delamar; so Rice’s statement, backed by 
the extraordinary instructions the valet had evi- 
dently received from Waverton, rang unpleasantly 
truthful. 

And what was the man saying — that he had better 
go on to Plattsburg? He laughed savagely, and re- 
entered the train. 

44 Tell your master,” he said, speaking with forced 
composure, 44 tell him that I am sorry he regards me 
as an unwelcome guest. Tell him, too, that he will 
have cause to regret his action. Will you do 
that? ” 


185 


No Other Way 

“ Certainly, sir. Good-morning. Nice day for a 
train journey, — bright; but not too hot.” 

There was no glint of sarcasm in Rice’s eyes, nor 
aught save the utmost respect in his voice ; but when 
the furious Tearle was whisked away from Saginaw 
the valet tipped the porter a quarter, which was 
contrary to his habit, he being a prudent man with 
his money save where horses were concerned. 

As a preparation for the curiously sensational de- 
velopments that now began to cluster round the 
adjourned inquest, Clancy paid another visit to 
Narragansett Pier. After close and careful weigh- 
ing of the facts garnered from so many directions, 
Steingall and he had concluded to take Doris Waver- 
ton partly into their confidence. It was a bold step, 
but essential to any real progress. Judges and 
juries do not encourage guesswork by the police; 
that is, when causes are actually being tried. It 
would be hopeless to expect any legal tribunal to 
deal with Waverton as an impostor if a woman of 
Mrs. Waverton’s position and intelligence continued 
to regard him as her divorced husband; so Clancy 
was deputed to try and persuade her to obtain an- 
other interview with the suspected man, but under 
such conditions that any further mistake as to his 
identity would be impossible. 

Of course, there was another witness to hand in 
Mrs. Delamar; but, for obvious reasons, she was 
not available. 

She had not only seen Waverton many times after 

186 


An Official Conspiracy 

the accident, but had quarreled with him, and had 
met him again in New York. Did she suspect the 
truth already? If that were so, her quiescent atti- 
tude was explained, — she was only biding her time 
to use her knowledge to the best advantage. But 
suppose she, like every other person, imagined that 
the Claude Waverton of to-day was really the 
man whose folly and extravagant life had been 
notorious in the past, what an embroglio that 
would be! 

“By Jove!” said Steingall dubiously, “we must 
sneak like cats before we are ready to spring this 
business, Clancy ! When you come to think of it, 
we might almost as well try to question the identity 
of a Bishop. At present, we have Waverton recog- 
nized and accepted by his wife, by the other woman, 
by his valet, who has been his constant attendant 
for some years, by a host of servants at 64th Street, 
and in the Adirondacks, by the family lawyer, and 
by his bankers. It is no child’s play to start break- 
ing down a body of evidence like that. And what 
have we on the other side? A theory, a bit of melo- 
drama, well fitted for the stage; but seldom heard 
of in real life. We must go slow, my son, or the 
District Attorney will laugh at us, and refuse to 
adopt the notion for a second.” 

“ Ah, Leander, your namesake would never have 
swum the Hellespont if he had not possessed a stout 
heart,” smirked his colleague. 

“ Don’t forget that he was drowned finally,” 

18 T 


No Other Way 

growled Steingall, who had been goaded by constant 
allusion into learning the true story of the hapless 
priestess of Aphrodite and her lover; though, in 
prosaic fact, he had been christened “ Leander ” 
because his mother’s brother was skipper of a Nor- 
folk schooner bearing that name. 

“ Not for daring to swim, but because a silly 
woman forgot to light a lamp,” said Clancy. 

“ There are two silly women in this case,” was the 
quick retort. 

“ They will nullify each other. Anyhow, James, 
— I call you James to spare your feelings, — you 
seem to forget that the first impression left on every 
person who has seen or spoken to this latest edition 
of the Tichborne claimant is one of change. 4 How 
he has changed ! ’ is the chorus. They all say it ; 
yet, so crass is human nature, the moment he says 
himself he is not the same man, in nature, they begin 
to disbelieve him. His only real difficulty was in 
the matter of handwriting; so he coolly maintains 
the fiction of a permanently injured wrist, whereas 
his right arm is perfectly sound. I noticed the de- 
ception within a minute after I saw him at Provi- 
dence. He was so taken aback by the appearance 
of a bureau man that he forgot the pretense of the 
damaged wrist till I asked him if he had ever lived in 
the Tropics. That startled him. That stuck a pin 
deep into his thick skin, and within a minute he was 
handing me a cigar-box with his left hand. He 
caught me grinning, too, and asked what was amus- 
188 


An Official Conspiracy 

ing me ; so I had to tell him about my way of en- 
joying a cigar—” 

Steingall snorted. “ Even you, the essence of 
New York officialdom, had a glimmering notion of 
the truth when you traveled with him from Narra- 
gansett Pier,” went on Clancy bitingly. “ For an 
instant you saw light; but the spark of genius was 
promptly doused by a bucketful of the balderdash 
you call commonsense.” 

“ I’ll not stay here to be insulted by a whipper- 
snapper like you ! ” said Steingall, rising and locking 
his desk. “ Run away, little boy. I’m busy. While 
you are jaunting to Palm Beach and mixing with 
the aristocracy I have to keep this great city fairly 
free of anarchists, because we are entertaining a real 
live Prince incognito this week, and the Federal Gov- 
ernment has a fit of the jumps.” 

“At the Plaza?” inquired Clancy. 

“ No. His Serene Highness is the guest of an 
ex- Ambassador. Now, one last word, — go easy with 
Mrs. Waverton. She must feel hurt after her trip 
to her old home.” 

“ Oh, by the way, I was nearly forgetting. Give 
me Waverton’s letter.” 

“ Why? ” 

“ She must be convinced that he was lying when 
he said he meant to marry Mrs. Delamar.” 

“ Dash it all ! It’s playing the game rather low 
down — ” 

“ What? To convince a loving and forgiving wife 

189 


No Other Way 

that her husband isn’t so bad as he paints him- 
self? ” 

Steingall produced the letter, rather unwillingly. 
It was not marked “ Private,” and he was entitled to 
use all lawful means to elucidate a crime; but he 
was a scrupulously fair man, even in dealing with 
notorious criminals, and he was sure that Claude 
Waverton had never intended his candid communica- 
tion to be seen by the woman in whose interests it 
was written. Still, the work of the bureau came 
first, and he must not be deaf to the voice of a man 
crying from the grave that he had been foully mur- 
dered. 

Seldom had Clancy’s peculiar qualities been so 
taxed as when he found himself closeted with Doris 
Waverton in a sitting-room at the Narragansett 
Pier hotel. She received him with that shy diffi- 
dence which is a characteristic of the less advanced 
section of American society — at any rate, in so far 
as the gentler sex is concerned. She began by ask- 
ing if her sister might not be present at the inter- 
view; but the detective negatived the idea instantly. 

“ What I have to say is for your ear alone at 
present,” he said. “ I am not entitled to impose 
any pledge of secrecy; but I think you will agree 
with me that your decision in that respect would 
be formed on more substantial grounds after rather 
than before you have heard what I have to say.” 

“ Very well,” she murmured, seating herself near 
a window. 


190 


An Official Conspiracy 

In the strong light that came from the sea she 
presented a picture of unstudied grace, and not for 
the first time Clancy marveled at the folly passing 
understanding which caused any man to cast 
aside such a woman for the sake of a Josephine 
Delamar. 

“ I have a surprising, indeed, I might fairly call 
it an amazing, statement to make, Mrs. Waver- 
ton — ” he said ; but she interrupted him. 

“ Please do not address me by that title. I am 
not Mrs. Waverton, but Mrs. Elstead.” 

Clancy leaned forward, hands on knees, and 
pointed chin thrust out, with a birdlike jerk of the 
head that, to Steingall’s eyes, would have betokened 
the seizing of an unlooked-for opportunity. Stein- 
gall grossly described this movement as that of a 
hungry robin which has just detected the presence 
of a worm beneath the surface. 

“ According to the view I take, there is no reason 
why you should abandon your name,” he said quietly. 

44 Surely I am the best judge of that,” and the ex- 
pressive face hardened under a memory of scorn and 
contumely. 

“No one would dispute your wishes if they were 
based on the facts generally accepted in Mr. Waver- 
ton’s recent history. But those apparent facts are 
now doubted by the police. That is why I am here. 
May I put a hypothesis? Suppose Mr. Waverton 
had been killed when the motor overturned at Palm 
Beach? You see. the possibilities involved in that 
191 


No Other Way 

assumption? No divorce; you would be a widow; 
your daughter would inherit the estates.” 

“ Of course, I admit all these things ; but of what 
avail are they? ” 

“ I think it depends largely on your own action 
as to whether or not they shall become actualities.” 

Doris gazed at him with wide-open eyes, in which 
there flickered some shadow of alarm. Still, Clancy 
could, when he chose, win a woman’s confidence to a 
degree that almost irritated some of his professional 
colleagues. It was so now. She evidently found it 
absurd to suppose that this alert, lawyer-like, highly 
intelligent man should lend himself to fantastic the- 
ories devoid of basis. 

“Will you kindly explain what you mean? ” was 
her very natural exclamation. 

“ I hope you will not ask me for proofs, because 
I have not got them,” he said earnestly. “ I can 
only assure you that the Detective Bureau, which 
has been giving close attention to this matter since — 
forgive me for speaking plainly — since Mrs. Dela- 
mar’s husband was found dead on a yacht off the 
New Jersey coast — ” 

“ My sister, Mrs. Daunt, had the impression that 
that man was bound up in some way with Mrs. Del- 
amar,” came the involuntary cry. 

“ She was right. Mrs. Delamar is really Mrs. 
Kyrle, and, if you read next Thursday’s newspapers, 
you will discover that she has been called on to ex- 
plain certain highly suspicious circumstances in con- 
192 


An Official Conspiracy 

nection with her husband’s death. Now, Mrs. Wav- 
erton, — pray excuse me; but that is your right 
name, — I must warn you that you will be both 
shocked and relieved by what I am going to tell 
you. We have, as I said, inquired very closely into 
every phase of this matter; such, for instance, as 
the divorce suit, which seemed to have a bearing, 
remote at first, on the death of this man, and it is 
our deliberate belief that Mr. Claude Waverton was 
killed that night on the road near Palm Beach. Yes, 
yes, you cannot be other than astounded; but my 
words are. chosen with a full sense of their gravity. 
We believe, I repeat, that he was killed. We be- 
lieve that the man, Charles Scott, tutor in a Spanish 
family from the Argentine, who was supposed to 
have been killed, in reality escaped with slight in- 
juries, and took the singular and almost inconceiv- 
ably daring course of changing clothes with the dead 
man and assuming his personality. At present, this 
is but a well-founded theory. If I may count on 
your help, I promise soon to make it a fact de- 
monstrable before any court of law in the United 
States.” 

At first, while he was speaking, his shrewd eyes 
dwelt on his hearer’s face; but Doris Waverton’s 
agitation was so marked that he thought it kinder 
to look elsewhere. Even when he finished, he kept his 
gaze averted, and did not seem to give any heed 
to the storm of doubt and terrified surmise that 
choked her utterance. 


193 


No Other Way 

“ I am sure — you mean well,” she gasped ; u but — 
what you say — is wildly impossible. I have seen 
my — m y husband — spoken to him. I have humili- 
ated myself — for the sake of my child. I — ” 

“ Let me at least save you some natural distress, 
Mrs. Waverton, by telling you that I know all 
about your visit to Mr. Waverton,” broke in the 
detective promptly. “ You were influenced by the 
highest motives ; but, when you are calmer, I shall 
ask you the condition under which that meeting 
took place. Were you not strung to a pitch of emo- 
tion that took a good deal for granted? Did you 
not meet this man in the park, at an hour when 
you could hardly discern his features? Am I mis- 
taken in thinking that you attributed any change 
you may have noted in voice or mannerism partly 
to his disturbed state, partly to the interval of many 
months since your previous meeting, and partly to 
the physical results of the accident? ” 

“ He was wholly changed for the better,” she al- 
most pleaded. 

“ Yes ; but changed — that is my point. There 
must be marked resemblances between this man, Scott, 
and the late Claude Waverton, — you see, I speak 
very confidently, — or he could not have succeeded 
in deceiving a host of witnesses who were given better 
opportunities than you to detect the fraud. That 
fact chiefly accounts for my presence here to-day. 
If 3 r ou, Claude Waverton’s wife, are not to be con- 
vinced that this masquerader is not your husband, 
194 


An Official Conspiracy 

our contention falls to the ground; or, at any rate, 
it will be a most difficult and uncertain task to try 
and sustain it. In a word, we are practically power- 
less without your help. Will you give it? ” 

44 I— cannot ! ” she wailed, sobbing in sheer des- 
peration and bewilderment. 44 You say you know of 
my visit to 4 The Dene ’ ; but you cannot know — ” 
44 Pardon me, Mrs. Waverton,” and now Clancy 
thought the time had arrived to clinch the argument, 
44 1 do know. Waverton, as we may continue to call 
him, himself wrote to the Detective Bureau, and told 
us the object of your journey to Lake Champlain.” 

Doris was woman enough, notwithstanding the 
war of conflicting emotions raging in heart and 
brain, to dry her eyes and collect her senses on 
hearing a statement that in its bizarre nature tran- 
scended all that had gone before. 

44 He wrote, you say ! ” she cried hysterically. 

44 Yes. We cannot guess who this man really is, 
because the name, Charles Scott, is surely an alias. 
We cannot penetrate the motive that led him to 
commit a daring fraud on society. But there is one 
object to which he is committed with strange tenac- 
ity, — he is determined that, should you wish to marry 
again, you will not be tempted to accept the pro- 
posal of the man whom he mentioned in the letter 
that led to your well-meant attempt at reconcilia- 
tion.” 

She clasped her hands in an unconscious attitude 
of entreaty. 44 Mr. Clancy, can you give me no 
195 


No Other Way 

shred of proof, other than your unsupported word, 
as to this amazing story? ” 

Despite her vehemence, for her sweet voice was 
shrill and full of anguish, Doris was slowly recover- 
ing her self-possession, and the detective knew that 
the success or failure of his mission hung on the 
next few words. 

44 Yes,” he said, 44 1 cannot expect you to accept 
everything on trust. Here is the letter in question. 
You will see by the envelope that it was posted at 
Saginaw and delivered in New York.” 

Doris took the letter, and Clancy saw that she did 
not fail to examine the envelope as he had suggested. 
Then she read, and her lips were set tightly ; though 
the dropped eyelids hid the gleam of fire that leaped 
up in her eyes when she came upon that sentence 
wherein the man said that he had 44 lied ” for her sake. 

She re-read the letter, word by word ; but no 
word was uttered for a long minute, because she was 
thinking deeply, and Clancy imagined that she was 
now furiously angry with the impostor to whom she 
had bared her soul. 

At last she lifted her head, and her glance met the 
detective’s squarely. 44 What do you want me to 
do ? ” she said. 

44 1 want you to unmask this pretender.” 

44 How? ” 

44 In the first place, by coming to New York this 
evening, or early to-morrow; so that my chief, Mr. 
Steingall, or I, can communicate with you without 

196 


An Official Conspiracy 

loss of time ; secondly, by keeping secret all that I 
have said, keeping it hidden at present even from 
your sister or your lawyer; thirdly, by promising 
to come to Atlantic City, or to Saginaw, whichever 
place is deemed most suitable, and there carry out 
the plan that will be made known to you. I cannot 
be more precise, because we must be guided by con- 
ditions as they arise. Lastly, provided you will 
promise to fall in with our plans, on arriving in 
New York you ought to telephone your address to 
the Bureau. You will then feel certain that you 
are not being hoodwinked by some mad dreamer of 
dreams named Clancy; but that there is a sound, 
reasonable, and official backing to the amazing story, 
as you rightly term it, that I have laid before you 
to-day.” 

Doris rose. Apparently, she had made up her 
mind with remarkable quickness and determination. 

“Yes,” she said, “I put myself in your hands. 
I do not see what else I could do. Once and for all, 
the cloud that has darkened my life must be dis- 
persed. I thought it had broken. Now, if not 
blacker than ever, it has become a dense fog. You 
say it is not impenetrable; so I shall help you to 
dispel it.” 

Clancy bowed himself out. In the corridor he 
clicked his right thumb against his fingers. 

“ Got him ! ” he said to himself, and the accom- 
panying noisy gesture sounded uncommonly like the 
locking of fetters on a felon’s wrists. 

19T 


CHAPTER XII 


SHOWING HOW THE NET WAS SPREAD 

Either the Prince in whom Steingall was inter- 
ested was not of much importance, or the anarchists 
were discreet, because, somewhat unexpectedly, the 
chief found himself free to go with Clancy to Atlan- 
tic City. 

“ Take Pullman tickets,” said the little man, as 
they entered the Pennsylvania Station the morning 
before the day fixed for the adjourned inquest. 

66 Rather expensive, my boy,” commented Stein- 
gall, with a grin. 

“ We may have company that will recoup us for 
the additional cost.” 

Of course, it was a mere guess ; but, like most of 
Clancy’s surmises, it was justified. A visit to the 
Pullman office showed that a seat had been reserved 
in one of the cars in the name of “ Tearle.” It was 
impossible to identify any name on the list as apper- 
taining to Mrs. Delamar; but her associate’s per- 
sonality was alluring, and the detectives secured two 
neighboring seats which happened to be at liberty 
in the same car. Next to the “ Tearle ” chair was 
a woman, bound for some town en route, and these 
four chairs were at one end of the carriage. When 
198 


Showing How the Net Was Spread 

the bureau men appeared, this woman was already 
in possession, so much so that baggage and parcels 
littered the floor ; but a negro porter soon piled her 
hat-box, suitcase, and golf clubs on the rack or dis- 
posed of them elsewhere. It was patent at a glance 
that she belonged to the holiday-making tribe. 

Now, it chanced rather fortunately that while 
Steingall and Clancy were surveying the ground, 
Tearle and Mrs. Delamar arrived on the scene, and 
their hasty glance into the car’s interior led them 
to regard the three as belonging to the same party. 
It was a haphazard incident ; but it led to an unlock- 
ing of tongues that otherwise might have remained 
mute, or, at any rate, uninforming. 

Mrs. Delamar claimed the seat labeled “ Tearle.” 
After depositing a suitcase and some magazines in 
it, she chatted with her escort through the open 
window. 

“ Rather a bore having to take this long journey 
on such a hot day,” she said, when she and the other 
woman had exchanged critical looks, which com- 
prised hats, costumes, gloves, and shoes in one sweep- 
ing yet accurate estimate. 

“ I hope you are not feeling unhappy, F'eena,” said 
Tearle, caressing a long upper lip with a well-gloved 
hand. 

“ Why should I ? My tailors excelled themselves 
in this coat and skirt, I fancy, and no woman can 
be really unhappy when she is well dressed.” She 
named a fashionable Fifth Avenue firm. 

199 


No Other Way 

“ Yes, I suppose that is true. I must learn to 
look on my tailor as a refuge in distress. He often 
has to feel that way, whether he likes it or not.” 

Tearle guffawed at his own wit, happily oblivious 
that Mrs. Delamar had mentioned her tailors by 
name in order to quell any lurking doubt in the other 
woman’s mind as to the possibility of the coat and 
skirt being of a lower order of creation. 

“ How long will this business keep you on the 
coast? ” he asked. 

“ I hope to return on Thursday.” 

“ Going to Absecon ? ” 

“ No. I hate the place. Are you gadding off 
to Narragansett to-day?” 

“ I think not. Can’t plunge into details now, you 
know ; but I want to have a talk with you before I 
make any further move in that direction.” 

“ Surely you don’t believe what that stupid valet 
told you? ” 

“ It’s hard to say. He’s a sure enough John 
Bull, and he struck me as saying what he be- 
lieved.” 

“ It is impossible, I tell you ! I am only waiting 
till to-morrow’s affair has ended before I take steps 
to bring about a settlement.” 

“ Well, good luck to you ! If you prosper, I do. 
At present, hot as the weather is, I am suffering 
from cold feet. I suppose you know what that 
means? So long! Wire me when to expect you. 
We’ll dine together that evening.” 

200 


Showing How the Net Was Spread 

Mrs. Delamar held out a languid hand, — she was 
by no means feeling languid ; but that was the correct 
society pose, — the door was closed, and the train 
started. Oddly enough, the red-faced Tearle 
thought that one of the men in the car, a little, 
wizened, dark-eyed fellow, winked at him solemnly; 
but, of course, the notion must have been an optical 
delusion in more senses than one, as he had never 
seen the man before that morning. 

Now, this scrap of conversation, the like to which 
might be heard any day in an important railway 
station, was singularly illuminative to those who 
could fill in blanks and supply missing names. Of 
course, the detectives could only guess who the 
44 stupid valet ” was, and why Tearle should label 
him as “a sure enough John Bull”; but Steingall 
had in his pocket a letter from a trustworthy cor- 
respondent in the Adirondacks, in which the affray 
with Joe Brett was fully described, while there were 
not lacking comments on Claude Waverton’s fine 
horsemanship and want of skill as a motorist. 

It was a moment of real triumph for Clancy when 
this official document spoke of 44 the smashing right- 
hand blow ” that had blackened Joe Brett’s eyes. 
The words supplied one of those slender strands of 
testimony which, entwined with others of the same 
consistency, might form a rope stout enough to 
hang a man, or keep him in jail for twenty years. 
Again, Don Miguel Santander had described his 
Argentine estate as 44 remote ” ; in effect, it would 
201 


No Other Way 

be a place where, in the absence of good roads, horses 
became necessities of life and automobiles useless 
encumbrances. 

The most singular feature of the Waverton case, 
to Clancy’s mind, was the ease with which Charles 
Scott had persuaded everybody, even a wife and a 
valet, that he was Claude Waverton. The detective 
had been conscious from the outset that the divorced 
man’s remarkable change of manners and habits in- 
vited inquiry, and one flash of blinding light, vouch- 
safed when he stood with Dr. Mercier on that curve 
of the coast road near Palm Beach, had shown him 
the solution of the puzzle. It did not explain 
reasons, of course. The motives that inspired a 
man like Scott, a solitary and recluse, voluntarily 
exiled from his native land, to change places with a 
fashionable rounder of the Curly Waverton type, 
were hidden at present. Apparently, no madder 
thing could have been done. Such a substitution 
courted failure, prompt detection, and condign pun- 
ishment. It held out absolutely no hope of success. 
Yet, it had been almost completely successful ! That 
was a fantastic element in an affair glowing with 
fantasy. And it was surpassed only by the way in 
which the imposture had been discovered. If Claude 
Waverton were, in fact, Don Miguel’s one-time tutor, 
he had no more to do with Mrs. Delamar or the 
death of her husband than the man in the moon ; 
but, for all that, his unmasking would be the direct 
outcome of police investigations into the antecedents 
202 


Showing How the Net Was Spread 

of Mrs. Delamar and the cause of Kyrle’s death. 
Sometimes a scientist, searching for a new element 
in his test tubes, blunders on a more amazing and 
wholly unforeseen development, and even Detective 
Bureaus are favored in that way occasionally. 

When Clancy gave rein to his imagination in fol- 
lowing up a train of thought, his eyes grew intro- 
spective, and his mobile face mirrored each phase 
of his mental flights. Now, he sat facing Steingall, 
and on Mrs. Delamar ’s right. His feet were tucked 
under the revolving chair; so, being short, his shoul- 
ders were nearly a foot from its cushioned back. 
Each thin, nervous hand clutched a knee, and his 
eyes, to all outward semblance, were fixed medita- 
tively on a square, brown-paper package lodged 
securely in a corner of the luggage rack above 
Steingall’s head. 

It looked so peculiar that the golf-playing woman 
e} r ed him with a good deal of quiet curiosity, and 
Mrs. Delamar gave him a searching glance before 
she settled down to read a newspaper. 

Steingall, growing restive for want of a cigar, re- 
solved to arouse his colleague from this day-dream- 
ing. 

“ I meant to ask earlier ; but something prevented 
me,” he said, leaning forward and smiling at the dis- 
concerted expression that crossed Clancy’s face when 
suddenly recalled to a sense of his surroundings. 
“What is in that parcel? It has a look of mys- 
tery. Have you discovered some long-lost relatives 
203 


No Other Way 

in New Jersey, and are you bringing them a pres- 
ent? ” 

“ Can’t you guess — and you a noted detective? ” 
snapped Clancy. 

At that word “ detective ” a quiver ran noticeably 
through the two women, and even a man higher up 
the car craned his neck. Had Clancy been able 
secretly and effectively to attach the wires of a gal- 
vanic battery to all of them, and then completed 
the circuit, he could scarcely have given them a more 
pronounced shock. Steingall was furiously angry 
at what he regarded as a blazing indiscretion ; Mrs. 
Delamar treated her newspaper too obviously as a 
shield for her startled face; while the unknown 
woman was so surprised that she dropped her novel, 
and gazed at the two men with the candid interest 
usually displayed by the public in matters that do 
not concern them. 

“ Are you suffering from an attack of low-comedy 
humor this morning? ” demanded Steingall, vainly 
attempting to convey to Clancy some notion of the 
absurdity of his conduct. 

“Humor? You ask a question of fact, and I 
counter by the simple statement that the chief of 
the New York Detective Bureau should be able to 
answer it the instant it occurred to him. Is that 
low-comic ? ” 

“ It borders on French farce,” retorted Steingall, 
reddening with anger; for by no manner of means 
could he bring himself to condone his friend’s folly 
204 * 


Showing How the Net Was Spread 

in thus making known their identity to a woman 
whom they had scrupulously avoided since the in- 
quiry opened. 

Clancy bounced up, so suddenly that Steingall 
drew back, and Mrs. Delamar was compelled to peep 
over the top of her newspaper to watch them. 

“ I’ll prove to you that this is no comedy, but dull 
and deadly earnest,” cried the little man, snatching 
the parcel from the rack. 44 This is Exhibit A in 
the Kyrle inquiry, a witness whose testimony would 
be most valuable if only it were alive and had the 
gift of speech. It could talk too, in its own way, 
and frighten people out of their wits when untimely 
aroused. 4 It could a tale unfold whose lightest word 
could harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; 
make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their 
spheres ; thy knotted and combined locks to part, and 
each particular hair to stand on end, like quills upon 
the fretful porcupine.’ ” 

The quotation from 44 Hamlet,” delivered with 
some histrionic force and marked clearness, was ac- 
companied by a stripping of the paper wrapping 
off a square box, painted green, with glass front 
and sides. Within reposed a fine stuffed owl, which 
Clancy held before Steingall’s indignant eyes, while 
it was, of course, equally visible to others. 

In spite of his annoyance, the chief inspector real- 
ized that there must be some method in his sub- 
ordinate’s madness. He was completely at a loss to 
account for it ; but he deemed it best now to play up 
205 


No Other Way 

to the lead given so confidently. What else could 
he do? Apparently Clancy meant to blab out the 
whole story! 

“ So you have brought that, have you? ” he said, 
catching wildly at the first noncommittal words his 
perplexed brain could evolve. 

“ Yes. You remember, it was given me by an 
Absecon policeman. Mrs. Kyrle’s gardener killed it, 
after it had attacked the lady in her own garden, 
causing her to scream out something dreadful, as 
the man said.” 

“ It is a curiosity, certainly,” admitted Steingall, 
still trying to supply Clancy with a cue; for, by 
this time, Mrs. Delamar had abandoned pretense, and 
was gazing at the two men with an alarm they were 
well aware of ; though the other woman, who was 
taking in this scene with unrestrained astonishment, 
probably attributed her furtive eyes and parted lips 
to a nervousness induced by the little man’s eccentric 
behavior. 

“A curio? Isn’t it an inspiration, too?” cried 
Clancy. “ Don’t you understand that this bird 
shared the secrets and the vigils of the dead man? 
It watched his comings and goings ; for he, too, was 
a night prowler, and, it may be, met his fate at 
the claws of some human vampire. This very owl 
must have seen him starting on that last fatal voy- 
age; or, if one might hazard a far-fetched guess, 
was present when his dead body was placed in the 
cutter by the hands of those who killed him. Can’t 
206 


Shotting How the Net Was Spread 

you catch some hint of the tragedy from the crea- 
ture’s baleful eye? It is only glass, we know; but 
it has been chosen by an artist, and is wicked as a 
snake’s. I am only going to make one small altera- 
tion in the setting. I brought back from the Palm 
Beach road a piece of the rock on which Claude 
Waverton’s body was flung, and it ought to go 
into this glass case with the owl that hooted 
Mrs. Kyrle with its dying breath. Don’t you 
agree? ” 

“ It’s a queer notion, but the two may have a 
good deal in common,” said Steingall, mopping his 
forehead vigorously, because the weather was warm, 
and the atmosphere of the car had become sultry. 
Suddenly the train plunged into the Hudson tunnel, 
and the change from daylight to electric lamps 
brought a respite. 

Clancy repacked the case in the brown paper, tied 
the string carefully, and replaced it on the rack. 
Then, seemingly for the first time, he glanced at the 
two women, and for a fraction of a second his eyes 
encountered those of Mrs. Delamar. She was 
deathly pale ; but so composed in manner that he 
fancied she was about to speak. 

“ I suppose you are pining for a smoke,” he said 
to Steingall. “ Shall we go forward? ” 

They went out, and the golfing woman caught 
Mrs. Delamar’s contemplative gaze. 

“ What a peculiar man the little one is ! ” she ex- 
claimed. “ And do you think they really are de- 

m 


No Other Way 

tectivesP I should not have expected to find such 
persons traveling in a parlor-car.” 

“ One never knows whom one may be traveling 
with nowadays,” said Mrs. Delamar, glancing up at 
the square package. 

66 That was really a very fine owl. I wonder if 
it did attack the Mrs. Kyrle he spoke of? I re- 
member reading something about the death of a 
man named Kyrle. Oh, I know now — the body was 
found in a boat. But why should the detective drag 
in the Waverton case? ” 

“Why, indeed?” sighed Mrs. Delamar, opening 
her writing-case, and beginning a letter forthwith. 
If the conversation did not stop, she was sure she 
would scream; so she scribbled a memorandum of 
Clancy’s words in the form of a letter to Tearle, 
but only to force the other woman into silence. 
Once again she looked at the parcel. Would her 
vis-a-vis go to the dining-car? she wondered. If 
so, and the man had not returned, she would cer- 
tainly pitch that horrible bird through the window, 
and take the consequences if its loss was attributed 
to her. 

Oddly enough, Clancy read her thought. He 
claimed that he had the faculty of projecting him- 
self into the mind of a criminal, and the destruction 
of the owl was just the uselessly vindictive sort of 
act he would expect from Mrs. Delamar. 

“ If you must smoke, smoke alone,” he said, halt- 
ing in the corridor near the smoking-room. “ I 
208 


Showing How the Net Was Spread 

shouldn’t be surprised if our agitated lady friend 
didn’t chuck her stuffed enemy out the window.” 

“ I don’t see any valid reason why I should not 
chuck you after it,” growled Steingall. 

“ There you go again, O man of method l ” 
cackled Clancy. 44 It gives you a pain to bump up 
against the least deviation from the judge-and-jury 
way of conducting a case. You ought to compose 
a glee to be sung by members of the D. B. 4 On 
receipt of information at the Central Police Sta- 
tion, we marched to arrest some Yids — you could 
hear our heavy feet all the way down Centre Street. 
— Sing ho ! the cops and the kids ! ’ How’s that 
for impromptu verse, with a manacle chorus ? ” 

44 This affair is making you bughouse,” said Stein- 
gall gloomily, forgetting to light the cigar from 
which he had already clipped the end. 44 Why on 
earth — ” 

44 Oh, if you don’t like my muse I’ll talk witness- 
box English. You want to know why I advertised 
you and myself to Mrs. Delamar? I’ll tell you. 
She and this bloated stockbroker person must be 
goaded into doing something. They’re behaving too 
well. They need spurring, whipping, scaring, any- 
thing you like, so long as they get busy and act. 
And, when all is said and done what does it matter 
if Mrs. Delamar learns now that she is attracting 
the attention of the bureau? She will know it to- 
morrow, in any event, and now she will be forewarned. 
That is what I want. If she got up to give evidence 
209 


No Other Way 

unsuspiciously, she would lie glibly, and the District 
Attorney would tear her to pieces in five minutes. 
With what result? The Coroner, the jury, the local 
police, not to mention the dear, addle-headed Amer- 
ican public, would regard her as a murderess and 
clamor for her arrest. Now, tell me honestly, are 
you interested in the Kyrle or the Waverton side 
of this inquiry? Need I ask? We’ll soon clear up 
the why and the wherefore of the crystals of nico- 
tine; but can you conceive a more insurmountable 
barrier to any real progress in the Waverton issue 
than Mrs. Delamar being committed to the Sessions 
on a non-bailable charge? ” 

Steingall struck a match. “ From that point of 
view,” he muttered, “ there’s something to be said 
in favor of putting the lady on her guard.” 

“ Bet you a dime she didn’t think I was an ass. 
You see, she’s a clever woman.” 

Steingall endured the stab stoically. “ I shouldn’t 
be surprised now if she sent for us to-night and told 
us things before the opening of the inquest to-mor- 
row,” he said. 

“ Good ! Half an inch of Havana works marvels 
in you. It’s a poison, but a tonic. You remind me 
of those beautiful Circassians who eat arsenic to 
make themselves more beautiful.” 

“ She’ll want to explain why she returned to 4 The 
Rosery ’ on that Tuesday evening.” 

“ We don’t know that she did return ; but go on ! 
You’re expanding visibly.” 

210 


Showing How the Net Was Spread 

“We ought to be sympathetic, and get the Dis- 
trict Attorney to follow suit.” 

Clancy raised himself on tiptoe, and pretended to 
scan Steingall’s forehead anxiously. Such was the 
way of these two. They would quarrel ferociously, 
and chaff each other without mercy, when a case they 
were investigating together promised to expand into 
its final stage. And woe betide the malefactor on 
whose heels they were treading when they fought and 
bickered ; for Clancy was then becoming a snare unto 
the evildoer’s feet and Steingall an unbreakable 
shackle for that same evildoer’s hands ! 

The train stopped to exchange the electric motor 
for a steam engine, and Mrs. Delamar called a por- 
ter, gave him a piece of paper, a dollar, and some 
whispered instructions. Steingall re-entered the car 
and asked a passing official how long the train 
waited there. Three minutes, he was told, where- 
upon he consulted his watch, Mrs. Delamar covertly 
summing him up the while. 

He seemed to abandon some project he was en- 
tertaining, and asked the women, with a smile, 
whether they preferred the window open or 
shut. 

All this, of course, was excellent fooling. Clancy 
meanwhile was pelting after the porter, en route to 
the telegraph office. 

“ The lady who gave you the telegram,” he 
gasped, “ wishes to know if she signed it. She is 
not sure. See if she has written 4 Feena.’ ” 

211 


No Other Way 

The man obeyed instantly, and Clancy owned the 
quicker pair of eyes. 

“ Yes, it’s all right — thank you,” he said, and made 
for the train again. He had also seen the impera- 
tive command to John Stratton Tearle: 

Follow me to Atlantic City by next train without fail. Most 
important. Wire. 

Now, neither he nor Steingall had agreed on a 
course of action. They had seen Mrs. Delamar pre- 
pare to send off a message, and Clancy had skipped 
to the end of the corridor without a word. The 
remainder of the comedy was merely the working 
of two trained artists. Each could trust the other 
to do exactly the right thing. When Clancy gave 
Steingall the text of the telegram, his chief did not 
even trouble to tell him how he had brought Mrs. 
Delamar from the window at the psychological mo- 
ment. 

Nor did Clancy return to the car until five minutes 
after the train had started. Then he reappeared 
with news. 

44 Forbes, the District Attorney’s deputy,” he 
said, 44 has a section all to his lonesome two coaches 
ahead. Shall we join him?” 

44 Capital ! ” said Steingall, and they gathered up 
their baggage, including the square case. 

The golfing woman caught Mrs. Delamar’s eye 
again. 

44 Those men must be detectives,” she said. 44 1 

212 


Showing How the Net Was Spread 

recollect the name of Forbes as appearing for the 
District Attorney. Don’t you wish they had 
brought him here? ” 

“Why?” demanded Mrs. Delamar, forcing a 
smile. 

“ Because they are extraordinarily outspoken, and 
it is so interesting to listen to the conversation of 
such people! I suppose this Absecon murder will 
be all in the papers to-morrow or Thursday.” 

“ Murder ! ” Mrs. Delamar’s voice sounded some- 
what shocked. “Why do you call it murder?” 

“ Oh, the District Attorney would not take it up 
otherwise. I know a little about these matters. My 
husband used to be connected with the department.” 

“ But, if I recall the incident correctly, — there 
was an inquest, I think, — the poor man was sup- 
posed to have died from heart disease when sailing 
his yacht.” 

“ You mark my words, there is more in it than 
can be seen; though, for the life of me, I cannot 
imagine why that queer little man gave his friend 
such a lecture about it, and before us, too.” 

“ I am going to Atlantic City — they mentioned 
that place, didn’t they? ” 

“ Absecon, wasn’t it? ” 

“ Yes, perhaps it was. But the inquest was held 
at Atlantic City, I fancy.” 

“ So it was.” 

“ Well,” and Mrs. Delamar languidly reopened 
her writing-case, “ as I shall have plenty of time to 
213 


No Other Way 

read the papers while in a chair on the Board Walk, 
I may hear more of it.” 

The other woman was well acquainted with At- 
lantic City, and was half inclined to put leading' 
questions ; but, being a well-bred person, refrained, 
and the opportunity passed. 

While the detectives were making for Forbes’s 
locality, Steingall saw Waverton sitting dejectedly 
in an intervening car. With him was a respectable 
looking person with an inch of dark whisker beneath 
each ear. 

Clancy grinned. He, of course, had discovered 
Waverton’s presence during his earlier transit. 

“ A nice bunch of sleuths we are ! ” growled Stein- 
gall when they were out of earshot. “ Here is our 
bird in this train, and we never flushed him.” 

“Name of a good little gray man!” smirked 
Clancy, “ what a lark if he had come into our car,, 
and Mrs. Delamar’s ! But I’m mighty glad he 
didn’t.” 

“ I should like to know just why you say that,’* 
muttered Steingall. 

“ Because he is under suspicion, and he is such a. 
real good fellow. Makes you feel sort of ashamed: 
of yourself for regarding him as a villain. Is that 
how it strikes you, Steingall P ” 

“ I am not quite sure yet that he is a villain,” said 
the chief inspector. “ The Waverton case has taken 
on a few peculiar kinks during the last fortnight, 
and it may have a twist or two left in it.” 

2U 


Showing How the Net Was Spread 

“ Yet, if Waverton is Scott, he has committed 
offenses enough already to keep him in Sing Sing for 
the rest of his natural life. Queer how we sym- 
pathize with him. Ah, here is Forbes ! ” 

Mrs. Delamar might have seen Waverton either 
at New York or on arriving at Atlantic City; but 
she gave no sign of the knowledge, if she possessed 
it. She was driven to one of the large hotels, found 
a telegram awaiting her there, went to her room, 
dressed, and dined; then donning a hat and cloak, 
she telephoned to the police station, and went out. 

Hence it happened that a small conclave of official- 
dom at another hotel was interrupted by a waiter. 

“Mr. Steingall? ” he inquired. 

“ Yes,” said Steingall. 

“ Lady to see you, sir.” 

“ Ah ! ” He exchanged glances with Clancy. 

“ Toujours cherchez la femme!” laughed the 
latter. 

“ This time the femme is cherchezing me. You 
come, too.” 

“ Who is it ? ” demanded Forbes, realizing from 
the manner of the two men that the call was on 
business. 

“ Mrs. Delamar, for a five-spot ! ” said Steingall. 

And it was ! 


215 


CHAPTER XIII 


WAVERTON SHOWS FIGHT 

The meeting between Mrs. Delamar and the rep- 
resentatives of the bureau ended in the tamest imag- 
inable way. The woman had come to seek, not to 
give, information, and, having regard to the caliber 
of the men opposed to her, it was reasonable to 
expect that she would fail to achieve her object. 
She used all the feminine arts save the candor of 
innocence ; but, unhappily for her, the one weapon 
missing from her armory was the only one that 
counted with these two clear-eyed detectives. 

Clancy, notwithstanding his outspokenness in the 
train, now elected to emulate the stuffed owl in so 
far as speech was concerned, and Steingall took up 
the severely official attitude of hearing all that a 
suspected person has to say, but putting no leading 
questions. When Mrs. Delamar found that her 
effective glances, her sweetly pathetic air, her soft- 
spoken, hesitating words were merely being wasted, 
she tried a somewhat stronger line. 

“ Of course, I could not help overhearing what 
you gentlemen were saying to each other to-day,” 
she said, coolly enough, “ and I had some difficulty 
in restraining my surprise in front of our fellow- 
216 


Waverton Shows Fight 

passengers. Why are the authorities in New York 
interesting themselves in my husband’s death? It 
seems to have arisen from natural causes, and the 
only strange element about it was the fact that he 
died in the cutter and was carried out to sea.” 

“ You will hear the medical evidence to-morrow, 
madam,” said Steingall. “ I cannot tell you just 
what conclusion the doctors have arrived at ; but I 
am sure they will greatly modify any views you 
may have formed as the outcome of the first day’s 
inquest.” 

Mrs. Delamar — obviously, she had sent in her 
name as Mrs. Kyrle — pondered this statement in 
silence for a few seconds. “ You seem to hint at a 
theory of suicide,” she said, wrinkling her smooth 
forehead as though the idea was bizarre and un- 
acceptable. 

“ We do not allow ourselves the luxury of theories. 
We go only on ascertained facts.” 

“ But I, at any rate, can have little of value to 
tell you.” 

“ I hope you will answer fully and carefully all 
the questions the District Attorney will put to you,” 
said Steingall, after a barely perceptible pause to 
allow Clancy to break in if so minded. 

“ If the authorities attach so much importance to 
the affair as to send all you gentlemen from New 
York, I suppose I ought to have legal assistance 
too,” and the low-toned, well-modulated voice grew 
slightly metallic. 


217 


No Other Way 

“ I think you would be well advised to avail your- 
self of the aid of a good local lawyer, madam.” 

“ But why? ” 

The words were eloquent of the belief that at last 
she had driven this suavely aloof-mannered detective 
into a corner; but Steingall only smiled. 

“ You are your husband’s sole legatee, madam, 
and consequently the person most closely concerned.” 

“ Yet I cannot see how my interests are threat- 
ened. There is no question of life insurance, or that 
sort of thing.” 

By this time, Steingall knew that his colleague 
meant to leave Mrs. Delamar to her own devices, 
and he realized, too, that she fancied herself secure 
in the role of a distressed widow. How she could 
harbor such a delusion, in view of Clancy’s earlier 
references to Claude Waverton, passed his compre- 
hension. But, then, women who figure in criminal 
matters often adopt the fabled policy of the ostrich, 
and refuse to recognize the awkward truth until the 
time has passed when it may be evaded with some 
degree of plausibility. He could picture himself 
too, being cross-examined by an adroit lawyer, and 
forced to admit that he had wrung compromising 
statements from a suspect under the guise of a 
friendly chat ; so he determined to bring the conver- 
sation to a close. 

“You are the best judge of your own interests,” 
he said. “ I can only assure you that the circum- 
stances attending Mr. Kyrle’s death will be gone 
218 


Waverton Shows Fight 

into thoroughly, and, seeing that a legal expert will 
represent the police, you ought to be protected by a 
lawyer.” 

During many years of a busy life he had learned 
the immense importance of choosing the right words 
in circumstances like the present, and he did not 
hesitate now over a phrase that might well have 
carried a chill to the heart and brain of one who 
risked being charged with having committed a mur- 
der. But Mrs. Delamar did not wince. She rose 
gracefully, said she would give careful consideration 
to his advice, favored Clancy with an inscrutable 
smile, and took her departure. 

“Well, not much forrarder, are we?” growled 
Steingall, when a cab had rattled away with the 
visitor. 

“ Some folk might think so,” was the oracular 
reply. 

“ Don’t you agree? ” 

“ She has a strong card up her sleeve,” fenced 
Clancy. 

“ Waverton, as the king of trumps, I suppose.” 

“ It looks like it.” 

“ At any rate, I shall play the ace to-morrow. 
Is it worth while giving an eye to that scamp, 
Tearle ? ” 

“O-ho! he’s a scamp, is he? Since when have 
you arrived at that opinion? ” 

“ I forgot to tell you that I met a man the other 
evening who knew him in Wall Street, which he had 

219 


No Other Way 

to quit in a hurry. He had some pull with the 
politicians, and got a job in connection with an 
Indian Reservation out Arizona way; but he had to 
quit that, too, and now he plays poodledog at the 
disposal of unattached females in summer resorts or 
in Florida. He has managed always to keep within 
the letter of the law; but decent people shunt him 
as soon as someone blows in who knows his record.” 

“ So you mean to play Waverton’s game? ” 
chirped Clancy with a bantering smile. 

“ To that extent, at any rate,” and Steingall 
chewed a cigar ferociously. “ What about watching 
him? ” 

Clancy knew that the “ him ” alluded to was 
Tearle. “ A waste of energy,” he said contemptu- 
ously. “ This affair will be fought out by two 
women and one man, and the man’s name is Scott, 
alias Waverton.” 

The “ playing of Waverton’s game ” was accom- 
plished in a manner that became perfectly clear when 
the reports of the inquest were published ; for the 
Coroner’s court had not been opened five minutes 
before the local reporters realized that they were, 
as they put it colloquially, “ in for a big thing,” and 
the headline “ Sensational Developments ” quickly 
made its appearance in the paragraphs published 
in the evening newspapers. 

Dr. Gilman was the first witness called, and his 
words stirred the pulses of all who listened. 44 When 
I testified in this inquiry a fortnight ago,” he said, 

no 


Waverton Shows Fight 

“ I stated that the general appearance of the body 
found in the cutter was compatible with death from 
natural causes. Although, even at that early date, 
I had reason to think differently, I deemed it ad- 
visable, subject to the approval of the Coroner, not 
to mention my suspicions until I had verified them. 
In the meantime I have made a careful analysis of 
the contents of the stomach, as well as other organic 
parts of the body directly affected by irritant mat- 
ter introduced by way of the alimentary canal, and 
I have no hesitation now in saying that Mr. Kyrle 
was poisoned.” 

At that word “ poisoned,” a curious thrill ran 
through the small court, which was crowded to its 
utmost capacity. Mrs. Delamar and Waverton had 
not met until they saw each other across a wide table 
in the well of the court, and the woman had been 
manifestly surprised at sight of him, while she flushed 
with annoyance when Waverton acknowledged her 
presence with a reserved bow. 

But her self-control was marvelous, and she ap- 
peared to devote her attention solely to the business 
in hand, and chatted with a local lawyer, Traherne 
by name, whom she had instructed that morning to 
watch the proceedings on her behalf. 

It was easy to see that the doctor’s emphatic an- 
nouncement of the cause of her husband’s death gave 
her a decided and unpleasant shock. After one long 
stare of fright and incredulity, in which doctor and 
detectives shared equally, she turned to Traherne and 
221 


No Other Way 

evidently urged him to put some questions to the 
witness instantly. He, of course, whispered an as- 
surance that he would be given every opportunity 
later to elicit any point he might deem pertinent to 
the inquiry. Meanwhile, Mrs. Delamar must not in- 
terfere nor hinder him in taking notes ; for he was 
a shrewd man, and he guessed at once that the At- 
lantic City mystery was about to shed some of its 
mysteriousness. 

“Have you ascertained the agent, Dr. Gilman?” 
said the Coroner calmly. He was devoid of 
“ nerves,” and the scratching of his pen provided 
the only sound in the room when the first slight 
hum of excitement had died away. 

“ Yes, the man had swallowed an excessive dose of 
crystals of nicotine, — sufficient, in my estimation, to 
kill a hundred men.” 

The reporters duly recorded the sensation made 
by this testimony, and the comment did not exagger- 
ate its effect on the few privileged onlookers who 
had obtained admission to the inquest. 

The doctor forthwith entered into a technical de- 
scription of the effects of crystals of nicotine; but 
when the Coroner asked if he had formed any definite 
view as to whether the deceased man had taken the 
poison when in the cutter or had been placed after 
death in the seat where he was found, Traherne 
jumped up. 

“ I respectfully submit that the witness ought not 
to answer that question at this stage,” he said. 

222 


Waverton Shows Fight 

“ For whom do you appear? ” demanded the Cor- 
oner. 

“For the widow, Mrs. Kyrle.” 

“ Is it in her interests that you object to Dr. 
Gilman stating his opinion? ” 

“ By no means. I am swayed rather by my own 
notion of the proper procedure. Mrs. Kyrle is, of 
course, anxious that every fact should be made 
known.” 

The Coroner nodded to Dr. Gilman. 

“ I said 6 every fact,’ sir,” continued Traherne, 
rather red-faced, since he was doubtful of the right 
line to follow. 

“ 1 think the witness should be allowed to proceed,” 
said the Coroner quietly, and the lawyer sat down 
again. 

He caught a dry smile in the corner of Forbes’s 
lips, and understood that he had not benefited his 
client by the protest. In the result, this impression 
was an unfortunate one, as he did not interfere later 
when he might have stopped some really damaging, 
though quite irrelevant, evidence being placed on 
the record. 

“ I cannot decide that very important point,” said 
Dr. Gilman, when he felt that the legal barrier which 
Traherne sought to interpose was not to become 
effective. “ The contortions of pain that the poison 
would induce in what I may describe in simple lan- 
guage as its middle stage, would render it absolutely 
impossible for any human being to remain calmly 
223 


No Other Way 

seated at the tiller of a yacht. But, in the case of 
a man endowed with a strong will, clinging obsti- 
nately to a dominant purpose, and wishful to create 
an impression that he had died from what is popu- 
larly known as heart disease, he might have struggled 
back into a natural position during the last phase 
of a stupor developing into insensibility. That is 
possible. The balance of probability is that the 
body was placed in the boat after death.” 

Another doctor, and the State analyst, confirmed 
Dr. Gilman’s evidence, and the local prosecutor, 
prompted by Forbes, asked each man only one ques- 
tion. 

“ Would any well-conducted drugstore supply a 
large quantity of crystals of nicotine to any ordi- 
nary customer? ” 

In each case the answer was an emphatic “ no.” 

The next witness came as a veritable surprise to 
everyone in court save the few who knew why he 
was there. Two men, apparently foreigners, and 
certainly strangers in Atlantic City, were sitting 
apart, shielded from all inquiry by the detectives 
and the local Chief of Police. One of them rose 
and smilingly touched his companion’s shoulder when 
the Coroner called “ Jose Vuilmo.” The man who 
had paid no heed to his own name was the proprietor 
of the drugstore on Everglades Avenue, Palm 
Beach, for he had only a hazy notion what the 
court was saying; but the other man proved to be 
an interpreter, and it was soon learned that Vuilmo 
224 


Waverton Shows Fight 

had sold an ounce of crystals of nicotine to an Amer- 
ican on February 22nd, as his counter record would 
show, and the name of the American was Claude 
Waverton. 

The reporters were writing at top speed. 

Mrs. Delamar’s face had exhibited a ghastly pal- 
lor from the instant she heard the druggist’s name, 
given correctly to the Coroner by the interpreter, 
whereas Claude Waverton had watched the man’s 
appearance wdth a bored inattentiveness that yielded 
to curiosity only when he found that, for the sake 
of accuracy, the testimony would be delivered in 
Spanish. 

To these three, then, seemingly busied with docu- 
ments and notes, but actually devouring each slight- 
est change of expression in Mrs. Delamar’s livid 
features, to which no more marked foil could be 
provided than Waverton’s heedlessness, there was 
forthcoming the amplest confirmation of an amazing 
fact. The stout and voluble Spaniard was to Mrs. 
Delamar a figure of terrible and sinister portent ; but 
to Claude Waverton he presented no such affright- 
ing spectacle. The one knew, and dreaded, the com- 
ing revelation ; the other was wholly unconscious 
of it. Yet, had he been the man he represented 
himself as being, he could not have forgotten that 
remarkable purchase of a deadly poison ; nor, how- 
soever innocent his intent then, would he be blind 
to its grave significance now. 

Of course, none of the three gave credence to 

225 


No Other Way 

Waverton’s pretense of a lost memory, and it was 
almost amusing to them individually, though their 
set faces were masks of indifference, when the sus- 
pect kindled into angry annoyance at hearing him- 
self named as the buyer. 

“ Nonsense ! ” he cried fiercely, without waiting 
for the interpreter to explain what Vuilmo had said, 
and he sprang upright, all aquiver with wrath and 
resentment; for he was in the position of a man 
. wandering idly through a flat and dreary country 
who finds himself suddenly on the brink of an un- 
fathomable abyss. 

“ You must not interrupt the witness,” said the 
Coroner, glancing sharply at the tall, thin, well- 
dressed individual who had been thus stirred into 
activity and disclaimer. 

“ But there is some ridiculous error,” cried Wav- 
erton in white heat. 

“ Are you represented by a lawyer ? ” 

“ No. If it was intended that this cock-and-bull 
story should be made public to-day, why was I not 
warned of it? ” 

“No comments, please,” said the Coroner. 
“ When the witness has concluded his evidence you 
can question him, if you so desire, or wait until 
another occasion, when you will have procured legal 
assistance.” 

Waverton sat down, with an impatient gesture, 
and now at last the interpreter was free to go on 
with the Spaniard’s statement. Up to this point the 
226 


Waverton Shows Fight 

great majority of people in court were ignorant of 
Waverton’s identity, and wondered why the stranger 
had protested so vehemently. 

During this somewhat striking scene Mrs. Dela- 
mar had endeavored to catch Waverton’s eye; but 
in vain. Though she had the aspect of a woman 
stretched on the rack, she strove to conquer her 
agitation, and hastily scribbled a note, which she 
asked Clancy, of all men, to hand across the table. 

The detective obeyed with a smile, and Waverton 
opened the folded paper. He read: 

Please try and recollect that you did buy the poison. The 
man is telling the truth. I can explain everything fully. 

Feena. 

He crumpled the message in his right hand — be 
sure that three pairs of watchful eyes saw which 
hand he used — and seemed not to pay the least re- 
gard to it, devoting himself rather to a close follow- 
ing of Vuilmo’s words. 

“ You are sure of the name?” went on the Cor- 
oner, blandly resuming his task as though nothing 
remarkable had happened. 

Yes, the witness had copied it from the gentle- 
man’s card. 

66 Do you see him in court? ” 

Vuilmo did not wait for the interpreter. “ Cer- 
tainly. That is he, only thinner and greatly changed 
since his accident. I heard of the affair, and re- 
membered the name,” he said in Spanish. 

m 


No Other Way 

Then he looked straight at Waverton, and it was 
not to be doubted that he was telling the truth. 
Every eye was bent on the bronzed man sitting at 
the table; but he only smiled scornfully, and met 
Vuilmo’s mild gaze without flinching. 

44 Are you positive on that point ? ” persisted the 
Coroner. 

The druggist gratified the court by indulging in 
a real Latin shrug, with outstretched hands, palms 
upward and wide apart. 44 The person of scientific 
mind avoids the pretense of too great certainty,” 
he said. 44 I used the word 4 certainly, 5 I admit ; but 
I only meant that I think this gentleman is my cus- 
tomer of February 22. He resembles him ; he has 
the same distinguished air; his voice is the same, 
though I should be better able to judge if he spoke 
in Spanish, because my customer asked for the drug 
in that language.” 

Waverton, with fine self-control, waited until the 
interpreter had finished and the Coroner had ceased 
writing ; then he stood up. 44 Will you allow me to 
exchange a few words with the witness in his own 
tongue P ” he asked. 

The Coroner hesitated. He saw that Forbes was 
ostentatiously making notes, and that Traherne was 
waiting for a move by Forbes. 44 1 think the course 
you suggest would be reasonable,” he said. 44 It 
would help Vuilmo to be more definite.” 

Waverton at once asked the Spaniard if the man 
who bought the poison spoke like an American pos- 
228 


Waverton Shows Fight 

sessing an ordinary command of the language, or 
was his diction as fluent and his pronunciation as 
good as his (Waverton’s). 

It was distinctly amusing to watch Jose Vuilmo’s 
face when he heard the accents of his native tongue 
delivered with the accurate ease of one who spoke 
it without fault or effort. He gazed spellbound at 
Waverton, and then turned appealingly to the Cor- 
oner. 

“ See here a mistake the most unfortunate ! ” he 
cried. “ This is not the gentleman who came to my 
establishment. This one is a veritable Argentino; 
the other was altogether American. I see now that 
I was in error; but permit me to observe, Senor 
Judge, that I remarked on the habit of the scientific 
mind — ” 

He was stopped by the interpreter, who forth- 
with translated Waverton’s question and the wit- 
ness’s answer. 

Waverton resumed his seat again, and favored 
Steingall with a satisfied smile. At the same time 
he could not avoid Mrs. Delamar’s glance, and he 
read therein a profound amazement which conveyed 
a warning that he had discomfited the druggist at 
the price of creating active distrust in a far more 
dangerous quarter. But he was evidently a man of 
singular strength of will; for he looked fully satisfied 
with his achievement, and the angry flush raised 
by the unexpected use of his name quickly gave way 
to a contented expression which, to Mrs. Delamar, 

229 


No Other Way 

was almost more bewildering than the ticklish turn 
taken by the evidence. 

Prompted by Forbes, the prosecutor hammered 
in the druggist’s disclaimer. 44 You believe now that 
the Claude G. Waverton present in court is not the 
Claude G. Waverton who bought the crystals of 
nicotine? ” he asked. 

44 But no, Senor,” was the answer, and Waver- 
ton’s brow frowned again ; because, perhaps, of the 
awkward manner in which the prosecutor had framed 
the question. 

He took thought while the Coroner’s pen scratched 
industriously, and broke in when the lawyer was 
about to proceed : 44 That is a somewhat unreasonable 
way to establish the fact aimed at. Why not ask 
the witness to state that if I am Claude G. Waver- 
ton, the person who purchased the poison must have 
deceived him by using my name? ” 

44 You can put that point when I have finished,” 
said Forbes. 

44 But I protest now against the method you are 
adopting. There are not two Claude G. Wavertons.” 

The attorney deigned to appear interested. 44 We 
are not settling a matter of title to the Waverton 
property,” he said. 44 The witness has stated that 
Claude G. Waverton came to his shop in Palm 
Beach, and you have got him to say that you are 
not the Claude G. Waverton in dispute. What more 
do you want ? ” 

44 1 want you to remember that you are repre- 

230 


Waverton Shows Fight 

senting the State, and that you have no right to 
distort the evidence from the meaning honestly at- 
tached to it by Senor Jose Vuilmo.” 

“ How dare you say that I am distorting evi- 
dence? ” 

“ And how dare you hint that I am not Claude 
G. Waverton? 99 

“ I did nothing of the sort.” 

“ What, when you flippantly allude to 6 settling a 
matter of title,’ and that I am 6 not the Claude G. 
Waverton in dispute’? Have a care, sir!” 

If a mild-eyed sheep, tied to the slaughtering 
block, were suddenly to scarify his would-be slayer 
with stern threats and words of hot indignation, the 
worthy tradesman thus confounded could not have 
been more surprised than Forbes and the two de- 
tectives. The lawyer had certainly gone rather far 
in his disdain of one whom his legal mind now re- 
garded as an impostor ; but he no more expected this 
fiery denunciation than that the Coroner should hurl 
an inkpot at him. 

Even Steingall was momentarily stupefied; but 
Clancy kept his head, and flashed a glance implor- 
ing caution, so Forbes temporized. 

" I am not moved by fear of criticism,” he said, 
addressing the Coroner, who, for his own reasons, 
let the two fight it out ; “ but I may as well explain 
that Mr. Waverton is working himself into a passion 
about nothing. I was seeking only to emphasize a 
point in his favor — ” 


231 


No Other Way 

“You must do it differently, then,” interrupted 
Waverton, and his contemptuous tone brought a flush 
to the lawyer’s forehead. 

“ Of course I cannot be dictated to,” said Forbes 
hotly. 

The Coroner raised his hand. “ I see no objec- 
tion to a subsidiary question, framed as Mr. Waver- 
ton suggests, being put to the witness,” he said, and 
Clancy blessed the worthy man under his breath. 

This was done, and the “ breeze ” died down. 
Traherne tried to fan it into activity again by get- 
ting the druggist to reiterate that the buyer of 
the poison did closely resemble Claude G. Waverton, 
and that his (the witness’s) altered belief arose 
largely from hearing Waverton speak Spanish so 
well. He wanted to know, too, why New York officials 
should appear in a New Jersey court, and threatened 
to have the proceedings quashed as irregular. 

But neither Forbes nor Waverton paid heed to 
this hair-splitting, and Traherne subsided. Forbes 
simply demanded that the address “ Asphodel House, 
Palm Beach,” given by “ the person who described 
himself as Claude G. Waverton ” (whereat the 
bearer of the name smiled grimly, feeling that he 
had worsted his opponent) should be noted, and 
Jose Vuilmo was permitted to retire. 

Then another rustle of excitement ran through the 
court, because the Coroner raised his head, and, peer- 
ing through benignant gold spectacles, called: 

“Mrs. Josephine Kyrle!” 


CHAPTER XIV 


MRS. DELAMAR’S ORDEAE 

Mrs. Delamar had dispensed with the veil she 
usually affected when in the neighborhood of Ab- 
secon or in any part of New Jersey where she might 
be known as Mrs. Kyrle. Though wearing black, 
she could hardly be said to be in mourning. The 
“ smart 99 coat and skirt, an imported hat, a lace 
blouse, a pair of suede gloves, conveyed an artistic 
suggestion of widowhood without any loss of ele- 
gance or charm. She was really a strikingly hand- 
some woman, and when she stood in the witness-box 
against a somewhat harsh background of drab- 
painted wall, she looked like a Morland portrait 
divested of its frame. 

Even the Coroner was impressed, and his voice 
grew almost sympathetic while he explained that, as 
a supplement to her testimony given previously, the 
police wished enlightenment on other matters that 
had come to their knowledge. 

She bowed silently. She had guessed already the 
nature of the ordeal she would be called on to en- 
dure, and she meant to go through with it as credit- 
ably as might be. It was useless to struggle, and 
a complete readiness to answer questions might soften 
* 233 


No Other Way 

the heart of that dour-faced descendant of some 
Scottish Covenanter who represented the District 
Attorney. 

Forbes, observing the fiction of working through 
the local prosecutor, was already on his feet and 
glancing through some papers. Suddenly he raised 
his eyes and shot out his first question ; though even 
he was elaborately polite, and his manner gave no 
hint of the coming storm. 

44 1 have read through the testimony you gave at 
the opening of this inquiry,” he said, 44 and I find 
you stated that you left Absecon for New York on 
the Tuesday of the week in which your husband 
died. Is that correct ? ” 

44 Yes, in a sense.” 

44 May I take it that it is also incorrect, in a 
sense? ” 

44 1 left Absecon on that day ; but did not travel 
direct to New York.” 

44 Ah. Where did you sleep on the Tuesday 
night? ” 

44 In the Board Walk Hotel, Atlantic City.” 

44 You came to Atlantic City, took a room in the 
Board Walk Hotel, went out, returned late at night, 
and traveled to New York early next day, — is that 
an accurate summary of your movements ? ” 

44 Yes.” 

44 Now, will you kindly tell the court why you 
acted in this way, and what you did during a two 
hours’ visit to Absecon, not to your own house, and 
234 * 


Mrs. Delamar’s Ordeal 

during your later absence from the Atlantic City 
hotel ? ” 

Forbes was an adroit lawyer, and the very form 
taken by his questions told the mystified Traherne 
that he wished to keep the witness clear of involun- 
tary pitfalls. Lest she might be tempted to pre- 
varicate, he revealed his hand clearly, and put forth 
a confident display of knowledge of her devious com- 
ings and goings on the day Kyrle was last seen 
alive, which was intended to warn her not to attempt 
to mislead the authorities. Traherne, who, of 
course, had received no definite instructions, realized 
that the District Attorney would not follow this 
line unless he was very sure of his ground, and, 
moreover, only leading up to matters of much 
greater importance. He watched his client closely 
for any signal of distress, when he would intervene 
on one pretext or another, and, at any rate, gain 
time for her to collect her thoughts; but she was 
quite self-possessed, though very pale, and did not 
take her eyes off the grim, sharp-faced, though 
smooth-spoken, lawyer who shared the secrets of the 
police. 

Clancy, alert as a jack-rabbit, admitted to himself 
at this juncture that he was puzzled by Waverton’s 
behavior. The latter was watching Mrs. Delamar 
with curious interest. He might have been a man 
who now saw her and heard her voice for the first 
time. His attitude was wholly detached and imper- 
sonal. Once his glance flitted to the rows of ab- 
235 


No Other Way 

sorbed people in court, and he smiled. Clancy lit- 
erally put his thought into words. 

44 You honest Atlantic City tradesmen,” he was 
musing, 44 are giving your undivided attention to a 
matter that you will never understand. There are 
issues in this case not to be decided by the combined 
wits of the Coroner and your good selves.” 

Clancy nodded his head in frank agreement, and 
Steingall whispered: 

“ What is it? ” 

44 Nothing,” said Clancy. 

44 Is that why you nodded ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Steingall had something sarcastic to say ; but for- 
bore, for Mrs. Delamar was speaking. 

44 I remained in Absecon because I had to wait two 
hours for a boat or train to Atlantic City,” she said. 
44 My husband did not wish my presence at 4 The 
Rosery 5 ; so I strolled to a farm where I was known. 
I bought some milk there. If necessary, I can give 
you the farmer’s name.” 

44 Not at all.” 

Forbes conveyed that he would not dream of 
doubting her word in this matter. 

Mrs. Delamar signified her appreciation of his 
courtesy by an expressive glance. Thus far, they 
resembled antagonists engaged in the punctilio of a 
duel ; but steel would grate on steel by and by. 

44 From Absecon,” she said, 44 1 went back to At- 
lantic City, and late at night returned again to 
236 


M rs. Delamar's Ordeal 

Absecon, at my husband’s wish, and received two 
packages from him. Altogether, I had a very 
wearying and apparently aimless day; but my hus- 
band was morose and eccentric, so I humored him. 
The packages were intended for the post, and, luck- 
ily, I remember the addresses. One was addressed 
to Professor Leon Anthony, M.A., Harvard Uni- 
versity, and the other to a bank on Broadway, New 
York. Let me explain that my husband was a man 
of peculiar, almost fantastic, ideas, and he insisted 
on a sort of secrecy and want of purpose in my 
movements that day. We did not agree very well, — 
in fact, during recent years we have lived apart, — 
but he gave me to understand that he was going to 
Europe, as a member of an expedition to Morocco, 
and that his return was doubtful. He informed me 
that the packages contained a scientific diary and 
papers referring to his personal affairs, that he had 
described himself in his letters as already en route 
to the Cunard pier at New York, and that he wished 
to convey the impression that 4 The Rosery ’ had 
been practically closed since that morning. It was 
arranged between us, however, that he would really 
not go farther afield than Paris, until — until each 
of us had obtained freedom through the divorce 
court ; and as I was most anxious to have my mar- 
riage dissolved, I agreed to humor him with regard 
to the broken journeys of that day. Still, I could 
not help feeling a little doubtful about their oddity ; 
so I took the precaution of registering the two pack- 
237 


No Other Way 

ets at the Atlantic City postoffice next morning, 
and have carried the receipts in my purse ever since. 
Here they are ! ” 

Producing a small gold purse from an inner 
pocket, and thus revealing the purpose of a gold 
chain that hung round her neck, Mrs. Delamar took 
two tiny slips of paper from the purse, and held 
them forth. She seemed to wish to give them to the 
District Attorney ; but he indicated that the Coroner 
should examine them first. 

As a matter of fact, Forbes had never received a 
greater setback from a witness. He was expecting 
a plausible story, — some feminine expedient that 
would seem to reconcile her suspicious movements 
with her subsequent silence, — but he certainly did 
not look for a candor that went far beyond the knowl- 
edge gleaned by the police. For the moment Stein- 
gall and Clancy shared the lawyer’s embarrassment. 
Mrs. Delamar had taken the wind out of their sails 
so effectually that they even forgot to watch Waver- 
ton. They knew, better than the Coroner or any- 
one else, that she was probably speaking the truth, 
and, indeed, after a moment’s scrutiny of the post- 
office receipts, the Coroner said: 

“ These receipts bear out the witness’s words. 
The addresses are those she has named, and they 
carry the date-stamp of the Atlantic City post- 
office.” 

A perceptible wave of interest ran through the 
court. Opinion was distinctly in Mrs. Delamar’s 
238 


Mrs . Delamar’s Ordeal 

favor. With few exceptions, nearly all present 
settled down comfortably to hear a thoroughly inter- 
esting bit of cross-examination. They were not dis- 
appointed. Not often is a man chosen to represent 
the District Attorney because he happens to be some- 
body’s nephew, and, although Forbes might carry no 
armament other than heavy artillery, there was 
metal in his broadsides. 

“ I am much obliged to you for the straightfor- 
ward explanation you have given of events on the 
evening of the day that, by common consent, is fixed 
as the date of your husband’s death, Mrs. Kyrle,” 
he said, “ and I want you to tell us now why you 
withheld these facts during the opening of the in- 
quest a fortnight ago.” 

“ That is a simple matter,” and Mrs. IJelamar 
smiled with a sad sweetness that reached many 
hearts. “ In common with the rest of the world, I 
thought my husband died from natural causes, and 
I saw no reason why my unhappy domestic affairs 
should be published broadcast. Not until I heard 
the medical evidence in court to-day had I the 
slightest reason to believe that he had been poi- 
soned.” 

She did not hesitate about using that ugly word 
“ poisoned,” and the mere sound of it warmed Forbes 
to his task. 

“ As you say,” he commented dryly, “ Mr. Kyrle 
was poisoned, and we have it on unquestionable 
authority that the agent was nicotine in its deadliest 
239 


No Other Way 

form. Now, Mrs. Kyrle, you have heard the state- 
ment made by Jose Vuilmo. Have you anything to 
tell us that may serve to clear up the point in dis- 
pute between him and — Mr. Claude G. Waverton? ” 

The slight pause before Waver ton’s name was not 
lost on the one man whom it affected more than all 
others. 44 Is that question properly framed, Mr. 
Coroner? ” 

44 Really, sir, I must protest against these inter- 
ruptions,” and Forbes bristled with indignation. 

44 You may protest as much as you like — I refuse 
to sit here and listen to your willful twisting of 
facts!” said Waverton, and Clancy, brought back 
to the real significance of the drama being played 
before spectators unconscious of its quality, found 
himself regarding Waverton as a man fighting for 
his life against overwhelming odds. 

44 I don’t quite see what ground you have for ob- 
jecting to Mr. Forbes’s words, Mr. Waverton,” said 
the Coroner. 

44 Thank you,” said the lawyer hastily; but Wav- 
erton would not allow him to continue Mrs. Dela- 
mar’s examination as if the point were settled in 
his favor. 

44 Pardon me one instant,” and Waverton’s voice 
was singularly calm and dominant. 44 1 have no 
wish whatever to interfere with the proceedings ; but 
I must insist, with respect, that between Jose Vuilmo 
and me there is no dispute. He said that a man 
representing himself to be Claude G. Waverton 
240 


Mrs . Delamar 9 s Ordeal 

bought crystals of nicotine at his shop; but he also 
stated that I was not the man in question.” 

The Coroner gazed mildly at Forbes. “ Of 
course, there is a material difference — ” he began 
hesitatingly; but the District Attorney saw that he 
had blundered, and made haste to rectify his error. 

“ Permit me to say, sir,” he cried, “ that I may, 
perhaps, have chosen my words carelessly. Let me 
amend them. Now, Mrs. Kyrle, to pass on, can 
you throw any light on Jose Vuilmo’s testimony? 
He told us that some person, representing himself 
to be Claude G. Waverton, purchased an ounce of 
crystals of nicotine on February 22 . Do you know 
anything about the transaction ? ” 

Mrs. Delamar, in her turn, had been vouchsafed 
a breathing space. She had to elect instantly 
whether she would admit that the Mrs. Kyrle little 
known and seldom seen at Absecon was none other 
than the notorious Mrs. Delamar, or strive to retain 
the disguise that had protected her so effectually 
in the past. Yet, had she really any choice in the 
matter? Had not these wretched detectives un- 
earthed her past, and dared she risk the destruction 
of a credibility thus far established by denying a 
double existence so capable of incontestable proof? 
The lawyer had contrived to place the onus of de- 
cision on her shoulders ; since he did not even appear 
to assume that she was the tenant of the house at 
Palm Beach. Her face blanched to a more sorrow- 
ful wanness; but she did not falter. 

24,1 


No Other Way 

“ Yes,” she said, “ it was I who lived in Asphodel 
Hou?e. Mr. Claude G. Waverton was my guest 
during March and April, and I sent him to buy the 
crystals of nicotine. I am at a loss to understand 
why he should deny the fact, or why Jose Vuilmo 
should withdraw his first emphatic recognition of 
Mr. Waverton. I am quite aware that Mr. Waver- 
ton is suffering from the effects of an accident ; 
but—” 

“ Let us keep to the thread of the story,” said 
Forbes hastily. 64 You have been remarkably can- 
did—” 

Traherne thought he saw an opportunity, and took 
it. Up he bounced. 44 The District Attorney asked 
my client — I quote his very words — if she could 
throw light on Jose Vuilmo’s testimony. I think she 
ought to be allowed to state her impressions 
fully.” 

44 Impressions are not evidence,” growled Forbes. 

44 Exactly ; but why take one part of my client’s 
views and reject another? ” 

44 Very well,” snapped Forbes ; though his rival 
fancied that this alacrity to yield the point sug- 
gested a trap. 44 What were you about to say, Mrs. 
ICyrle? ” 

44 Only this,” was the meek response. 44 If Mr. 
Waverton’s memory is affected, he cannot be positive 
that it was not he who went to Vuilmo’s store. More- 
over, Vuilmo did not recognize him, and I am quite 
sure he executed my commission.” 

242 


Mrs . Delamar’s Ordeal 


Certainly, here was a hard nut for Waverton to 
crack. The woman’s words carried conviction. 
Clancy hugged himself silently; Steingall, deprived 
of a cigar, chewed a penholder, and his big, promi- 
nent blue eyes passed rapidly from Mrs. Delamar 
to Waverton, and from Waverton to Mrs. Delamar. 
Both he and Clancy noted that the man and woman 
exchanged a steady, contemplative look, while Forbes 
bent over his papers. There was neither hostility 
nor veiled intent in that silent interplay of glances ; 
but rather curiosity, inquisition, an acknowledgment 
of something new and strange in their relations, 
whereby the man was troubled and the woman almost 
bewildered. 

“ Now, before we go any further in this matter of 
the purchase of a poison, Mrs. Kyrle, I must intro- 
duce a somewhat distressing element into the in- 
quiry,” said Forbes, pouncing suddenly on the wit- 
ness as if he were a hawk striking at a pigeon. 
“Your name is Josephine Kyrle; but you are, I 
take it, known to a very much wider circle of people 
as Josephine Delamar ? ” 

“ Yes,” said the witness faintly, with just a hint 
of a sob in her voice. 

Some shrewd wits among the uninformed listeners 
present in court were already alive to the imminence 
of this astonishing disclosure; but to the multitude 
it came with a sledgehammer force and more than 
sledgehammer directness. Mrs. Kyrle the fascinat- 
ing and dangerous Mrs. Delamar — the wicked hero- 
5243 


No Other Way 

ine of the Waver ton divorce case — the woman whose 
name truth, which is often a synonym for scandal, 
had linked with so many bizarre incidents in the 
smart society of Florida and New York! Well, 
wonders would never cease! The descriptive re- 
porter wrote “ At this statement, every ear was 
agog, and every eye in court was turned on the 
beautiful woman on the witness stand ; while she her- 
self, shrinking under this avalanche of scrutiny, was 
almost moved to tears.” 

At any rate, the cat was out of the bag from that 
instant, and the attention of every daily newspaper 
in the country was focused on a trivial inquest in 
lively and pleasure-seeking Atlantic City. 

“ In fact,” went on the dry legal voice mercilessly, 
“ a little while prior to your husband’s death you 
had figured as corespondent in a suit for divorce 
brought by Mrs. Waverton against her husband, 
Claude G. Waverton? ” 

“ Yes,” and the response was even more muffled, 
though distinct enough. 

Traherne moved uneasily. He was unable to gage 
the issues lying behind these revelations; but he no- 
ticed that Forbes appeared to expect him to inter- 
vene, so he kept still. 

“ I believe, too,” said Forbes, after waiting for the 
interruption that came not, “ that you have been, 
and still are, on terms of close friendship with a 
certain John Stratton Tearle? ” 

“ I know him.” 


Mrs . Delamar’s Ordeal 


“ You meet him constantly, and write to him when 
you both happen to be separated ? ” 

“ I see him frequently and sometimes write to 
him.” 

“He reserved a seat for you in a Pullman from 
New York yesterday, and accompanied you to the 
Pennsylvania station ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“Was John Stratton Tearle, by any chance, at 
Absecon, or Atlantic City, or anywhere in New 
Jersey, on the day you last saw your husband 
alive ? ” 

“ Not to my knowledge.” 

“ Are you not aware that he was supposed to be 
in Narragansett Pier at that period? ” 

“ Yes. I believe so.” 

Forbes rustled his papers with the air of a man 
who was performing a profoundly disagreeable task ; 
though, in reality, his chagrin arose from the wit- 
ness’s sudden liking for answers that were either 
monosyllables or their equivalents. She had spoken 
freely enough before, and he hoped she would keep 
on in the same vein. However, she had adopted the 
safer method of meeting a forensic attack; so he 
had to rest content. 

“ Was your husband acquainted with John Strat- 
ton Tearle? ” he demanded. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Were they friends? ” 

“ At one time.” 


245 


No Other Way 

“ How long since? ” 

“Nearly six years ago.” 

“ Come, now, Mrs. Kyrle, you were not so tongue- 
tied a few minutes since. Can you not be more 
explicit 

“ What do you want me to say? ” asked the wit- 
ness, raising her eyes in a pathetic glance at the 
Coroner. 

“ My friend is hard to please,” put in Traherne, 
taking what he fancied was meant as a cue to him- 
self from his client. “ At one time he declines to 
hear Mrs. Kyrle’s explanations, and in the next 
breath he asks for them.” 

“ I don’t wish to press the witness to utter a word 
more than she wishes,” said Forbes. 

“But where is this testimony leading us? How 
does it concern the death of Mr. Kyrle? Is the New 
York District Attorney endeavoring to establish a 
conspiracy to bring about this poor man’s death, 
and are his wife, Claude G. Waverton, this John 
Stratton Tearle, and possibly several other people, 
looked on as parties to it? ” 

“ If you raise any serious objection to the line I 
am following, I am quite prepared to leave the in- 
quiry where it stands — at present,” said Forbes 
blandly. 

But Traherne was too old a bird to be caught 
with that sort of legal chaff. He laughed. “ Really, 
we New Jersey people are not quite so slow-witted 
as the District Attorney evidently believes us to be,” 
246 


Mrs. Delamars Ordeal 

f 

he cried, confident that this jibe at a New Yorker 
would tickle his audience. 44 I am not endeavoring 
to hamper inquiry, — indeed, my client welcomes it, — 
but it is one thing to elicit the truth concerning a 
distressing fatality, and quite another to embark on 
a fishing expedition. Ask what you please, Mr. 
Forbes, and you will be answered ; but you must not 
expect Mrs. Kyrle to provide you with material for 
what practically amounts to a cross-examination.” 

Forbes nodded. He was more at home in this 
sort of sparring than in forcing unpalatable revela- 
tions from a pretty woman. 

44 Since your lawyer thinks I ought to speak 
plainly, Mrs. Kyrle, I shall do so,” he said. 44 1 
believe you met John Stratton Tearle in Paris be- 
fore you married Mr. Kyrle? ” 

44 Yes,” and the witness’s tones were stronger now. 
44 Did your friendship with him provide the first 
cause of the quarrel between your husband and your- 
self? ” 

44 Yes.” 

44 Is it correct to say that Tearle introduced Mr. 
Waverton to you? ” 

44 Yes.” 

44 Very well. That ends this branch of the affair 
for the time being. Now, will you tell us why you 
got Mr. Waverton to buy crystals of nicotine at a 
Palm Beach drugstore? ” 

44 My husband wrote and asked me to procure the 
poison. He said that in New Jersey a layman could 
247 


No Other Way 

not obtain such a quantity without great difficulty, 
whereas the regulations in Florida were not so 
strict.” 

“ Did he say why he wanted the drug? ” 

“ As nearly as I can recollect, he was engaged 
in investigating the vegetable poison used by the obi 
men of the West Indies, and needed the nicotine to 
conduct certain experiments.” 

“ How did you forward it to him? ” 

“ By mail.” 

“ And did Mr. Claude G. Waver ton bring it to 
you in person? ” 

“ Unquestionably. He laughed about it, and told 
me to retain my husband’s letter, because it was a 
rather strange commission.” 

“ Have you that letter? ” 

“ I believe so. Had I known that all this — all this 
dreadful expose — would be made to-day, I should 
have searched for it.” 

For some reason best known to himself, Forbes 
concluded his examination at a moment when the 
court’s sympathies were veering back to a woman 
who might have sinned, but was certainly being 
persecuted by Fate. 

The Coroner was evidently swayed by some such 
sentiment, since he asked, very gently, if the witness 
could suggest any motive for her husband’s peculiar 
stipulations as to her movements on the fatal Tues- 
day. 

“ 1 hope it is not a cruel thing to say, but I am 

248 


Mrs. Delamar's Ordeal 

beginning to fear that he meant to kill himself that 
night, and was contriving matters in such a way that 
suspicion would be cast on me.” 

Mrs. Delamar had soon recovered from the emo- 
tion that shook her utterance in responding to 
Forbes’s concluding question, and she put forward a 
theory that was at least reasonable, in a voice that 
was firm, if not slightly metallic. 

44 No secret was made of the purchase of the 
poison? ” went on the Coroner. 

44 None whatever.” 

44 Did Mr. Waverton know your husband? ” 

44 To the best of my belief, he had never seen 
him. I don’t think he even knew his name.” 

44 Then Mr. Waverton could have no strong mo- 
tive for concealing his share in the transaction at 
Palm Beach — about the poison, I mean? ” 

44 1 can imagine none.” 

44 Will you endeavor to find the letter your hus- 
band wrote prior to February 22? ” 

44 Certainly.” 

The Coroner thanked Mrs. Kyrle for the way in 
which she had given her testimony, and she de- 
scended from the witness stand. 

Just then Waverton and Clancy were engaged in 
what might be described as an ocular duel. Each 
man knew that the whole scene in court had been 
arranged with the skill of a dramatist. Waverton 
had been deliberately led to believe that the police 
attached the most grave significance to the buying 

249 


No Other Way 

of the poison; whereas the incident, though impor- 
tant, was now whittled down to a mere link in a chain 
of evidence which pointed to the suicide of Kyrle. 
Hence, the disquieting testimony given by Jose 
Vuilmo had been meant as a bait for Waverton, and 
he had swallowed it, hook and all, like the veriest 
gudgeon. 

So his eyes dwelt fixedly on Clancy, and his frown- 
ing brow seemed to convey the thought, “ It was you 
who contrived my present predicament, you little 
shrimp of a man ! If I could wring your neck with- 
out fear of consequences, I should do it cheer- 
fully.” 

And Clancy had shot back the retort, “You are 
feeling the lance now, my bold interloper ; next time 
you will be impaled on it ! ” 

Waverton suddenly abandoned the contest, and 
scribbled a note laboriously with his left hand, throw- 
ing it to Steingall, folded in such wise that it would 
carry across the table. 

The chief of the bureau went through a pantomime 
of surprised inquiry, and, on being assured that the 
paper was really intended for him, opened it, and 
read : 

No matter what the consequences to myself, I am exceed- 
ingly obliged to you personally for to-day’s developments. 
Mrs. Waverton is now safe from molestation. 

Steingall pursed his lips over this queer side issue ; 
for it was passing strange that Claude Waverton 
should disregard his own dilemma, and pay heed 
250 


Mrs . Delamar s Ordeal 

only to the escape of his wife from further atten- 
tions on the part of Tearle. 

Almost ostentatiously he gave the slip of paper to 
Clancy, who read it, and looked again at Waverton. 
This time he smiled, and his geniality appeared to 
astonish the other man considerably. But Waver- 
ton’s mind was diverted from this new channel by 
the Coroner, who had completed his notes of Mrs. 
Kyrle’s testimony, and now called: 

“ Claude G. Waverton! ” 

“ One could almost hear a pin drop in court,” 
wrote the enthusiastic reporter. “ It was noticed 
that Waverton moved wearily, and used his left 
hand to steady himself in ascending the few steps to 
the witness stand.” 


251 


CHAPTER XV 


A RESHUFFLING OF THE PACK 

“You are Claude G. Waverton?” said the Coro- 
ner, squaring several sheets of legal-looking foolscap 
on his desk, and evidently settling down for another 
long spell of note-taking. 

“ I am,” came the confident reply. 

“ What address ? ” 

“ Saginaw, Lake Champlain, and East 64th Street, 
New York.” 

“ You have heard the evidence of the previous 
witnesses. Do you contradict them in any impor- 
tant particulars ? ” 

“ No.” 

The Coroner permitted himself to look bewil- 
dered, and Waverton smiled. 

“ May I make a statement in my own words, sir? ” 
he asked. “ It will facilitate ‘matters greatly, and 
I shall, of course, be prepared to answer any ques- 
tions subsequently.” 

“ By all means,” breathed the Coroner, glad to 
find that he was to be spared the necessity of point- 
ing out how inconsistent was that emphatic “ no ” 
with the witness’s firm disclaimer of the druggist’s 
identification. 


252 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

“ It must be plain to you, sir, and to every 
unbiased observer,” said Waverton, “ that I have 
hardly recovered from a severe accident sustained at 
Palm Beach early in May. When I regained con- 
sciousness after having been thrown out of an auto- 
mobile, I soon found that my memory had become 
very much impaired ; and the defect remains, though 
it is gradually improving. I can recall certain in- 
cidents of the past; but my mind is a blank where 
others are concerned. I suppose that, at the time 
I am said to have gone to Jose Vuilmo’s shop, I 
regarded the purchase of the poison as a trivial 
matter, and it evidently comes within the second 
category, — that of forgotten things, I mean. When 
I was charged to-day with a personal share in 
something that Mrs. Kyrle’s legal adviser very 
properly called a 4 conspiracy,’ having for its appar- 
ent object the murder of a man I had never seen, 
I resented the imputation as monstrous. It was 
that notion which predominated in my denial of the 
poison transaction. I am well acquainted with Jose 
Vuilmo’s store, and can describe its situation exactly ; 
so it is quite probable, therefore, that I did execute 
Mrs. Kyrle’s commission, though I certainly do not 
recollect it. I withdraw my earlier implied repudia- 
tion unreservedly, since Mrs. Kyrle’s evidence has 
convinced me that I was mistaken.” 

The Coroner wrote every word ; so there were fre- 
quent pauses in Waverton’s statement. In ordinary 
conditions, the cautious official would have rejected 
253 


No Other Way 

some phases as being mere comment; but it was 
clear that he meant to allow the witness to express 
himself exactly as he thought fit on this occasion. 

“ Do you know anything whatever of Mr. Kyrle’s 
death? ” he asked, after glancing carefully through 
what he had written. 

“ Nothing, beyond the accounts in the news- 
papers.” 

“ When did you first hear of it? ” 

“ Last Sunday fortnight, at Providence. My 
valet showed it to me in the Sunday news- 
papers.” 

“ Why? ” 

“ He recognized the address. He was aware that 
Mrs. Delamar — both he and I have always known 
Mrs. Kyrle by that name — went occasionally to a 
cottage at Absecon called 4 The Rosery.’ It was 
understood that the place was her own property; 
at least, such was my impression. I do not wish 
it to be assumed that I was misled in the matter by 
Mrs. Delamar.” 

“ Did the lady ever mention her husband to 
you? ” 

“ I cannot remember any instance.” 

“ You took it for granted that she was a married 
woman? ” 

“ She might have been a widow.” 

“ But you did not trouble to inquire? ” 

“No. Why should I? If I gave any thought 
at all to the matter, I probably imagined that she 
254 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

had good reasons for not speaking of it, so held 
my tongue.” 

The Coroner seemed to regard this as excellent 
counsel, as he obviously repressed a desire to ques- 
tion the witness further. Nodding to Forbes, he 
said: 

66 Have you anything you wish to ask? ” 

“ No, sir,” came the unexpected reply. 

Now, most people in court, including Waverton 
himself, fully anticipated a sharp passage at arms 
between the District Attorney and a witness whose 
connection with the inquiry, though remote, was none 
the less important. Even the Coroner was some- 
what taken aback by the lawyer’s sharp negative. 
He was evidently unprepared for it ; indeed, he might 
well have looked for a very different answer, since, 
to a certain extent, he was in the confidence of the 
police, and knew that wider issues than the manner 
of Kyrle’s death were involved in the inquiry. He 
was perplexed, too, by Waverton’s pose as a heed- 
less Lothario. He had encountered all sorts and 
conditions of men ; but this stern, self-possessed man 
was far from fitting into the mental picture he had 
drawn of Curly Waverton. 

Meanwhile, Mrs. Delamar had been given an op- 
portunity to hold a whispered consulation with Tra- 
herne, and the latter was on his feet instantly when 
the flustered Coroner showed a disposition to close 
the witness’s examination. 

“ With your permission, sir,” he said, “ there is 
255 


No Other Way 

one point on which I would ask Mr. Waver ton to 
be more precise, and that is as to the nature of the 
accident that affected his memory.” 

The Coroner indicated that the witness was at 
Traherne’s disposal, and the latter, addressing Wav- 
erton, said: 

44 When did you first learn that your memory 
had become defective? ” 

44 Do you mean what was the first instance of it ? ” 

44 Yes, put it that way if you like.” 

44 I remember lying on a rock below the Boynton 
Road, and wondering why one hand should be in a 
swamp and the other clutching the roots of a guava 
tree; but I could not tell how I came to be in that 
somewhat unusual position.” 

At this point Clancy began to take notes, the first 
he had troubled to make during the day’s proceed- 
ings. 

44 That instance comes somewhat too near the 
actual time of the mishap to be of much guidance,” 
said Traherne. 44 1 want you, if possible, Mr. Wav- 
erton, to tell us the first instance after you were 
fully restored to consciousness, when you failed to 
recall some well-marked event in your previous life 
that undoubtedly had happened.” 

44 You are asking me to perform a very difficult 
feat.” 

44 But why ? ” 

44 You want me to remember something which I 
tell you I have completely forgotten.” 

256 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

A low chuckle of laughter ran through the court ; 
but Traherne only joined in it, and stuck to his 
guns. 

“ Let me put it differently,” he said. “ Jose 
Vuilmo says that someone giving the name of Claude 
G. Waverton bought crystals of nicotine at his es- 
tablishment, and you say now, after first denying 
the truth of his statement in its reference to your- 
self, that you may really have done this thing, but 
have no recollection of it. Surely this cannot be 
the first time such lack of memory as to a fact, or 
an alleged fact, has been brought to your notice ? ” 

“ By no means. It occurs every day. May I go 
into this matter somewhat more fully? I have no- 
ticed that my memory is not affected in its accuracy 
as regards scenes, places, and historical events, either 
personal or general. When I returned to my coun- 
try place, after an absence of nearly a year, I re- 
membered the position of certain shrubs, pictures, 
pieces of statuary, which had been removed during 
my absence; but I was often at a loss for the name 
and identity of an indoor servant, or of some person 
employed on the estate. I knew an old dog, and the 
dog, I am glad to say, knew me; but I could not 
properly associate the levers and brakes of an auto- 
mobile with their functions, though, prior to the 
accident, I was a skilled driver. I remembered all 
about certain proceedings instituted by my wife; 
but failed to look upon the incidents that led up to 
them in the same light as before I got the knock on 
257 


No Other Way 

the head. Tg cite a purely personal phase, I used 
to indulge freely in stimulants; now I rarely touch 
any intoxicating liquor other than a glass of claret 
for dinner. Shall I go on? ” 

“ Pray do.” 

“ Well, I have consulted various specialists, both 
in Palm Beach and New York, and they tell me that 
one of two things has happened, — there is either a 
clot of blood resting on some nerves in the central 
ganglia of the brain, or I have sustained a slight 
indentation of the skull in that locality. They ad- 
vise me against an operation unless the symptoms 
show increased gravity ; whereas I find that they are 
slowly disappearing.” 

Mrs. Delamar whispered something when Waver- 
ton was speaking, and presumably her communica- 
tion accounted for the lawyer’s next question. 

“ Did you fail to remember the name of your 
valet, Rice, when you were brought to Asphodel 
House after the accident? 99 

“ I really cannot tell you,” said Waverton coolly. 
“ Is that incident already buried in oblivion ? ” 

“ It is, if it happened ; though I should be slow 
to believe that I had forgotten Rice’s existence, for 
never was there a more faithful and devoted servant 
and friend than Rice has been to me.” 

Traherne looked puzzled, as well he might be, and 
seemingly disregarded a second suggestion made by 
Mrs. Delamar. “ What doctors have you consulted, 
Mr. Waverton? ” he inquired. 

258 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

The witness gave the names of three eminent sur- 
geons, and Traherne sat down. Mrs. Delamar was 
anxious to discuss matters with him at once; but 
he was emphatic in his refusal to attend then to 
anything beyond the exigencies of the moment, be- 
cause a discussion straightway arose between Coro- 
ner and police as to procedure. Forbes favored an 
adjournment for another fortnight ; but the Coroner 
could not see any valid reason for that course, unless 
the authorities felt sure of producing further evi- 
dence of an important nature. 

Forbes could not give a positive undertaking on 
that score, and Traherne pressed for an immediate 
verdict of suicide. 

It soon became clear, however, that the Coroner 
was opposed to any verdict that positively committed 
him to a precise finding, and the verdict ultimately 
took an unprejudiced shape, — “ that the deceased 
died from the effect of poison; but whether by his 
own act or by the act of some other person or per- 
sons there is not sufficient evidence to determine.” 

This was what is known as an “ open ” verdict. 
In other words, it relieved the court from frequent 
and perhaps useless adjournments, while it left the 
authorities free to pursue their investigations, and 
take any subsequent steps they might deem neces- 
sary by proceedings before a magistrate. 

Though Mrs. Delamar might well lay to heart the 
philosophy underlying the proverb, “ Never halloo 
till you are out of the wood,” she had some reason 
259 


No Other Way 

to be satisfied with the turn of events. Notwith- 
standing the disastrous blow struck at her fellow- 
plotter’s matrimonial scheme where Doris Waverton 
was concerned, she personally had almost escaped 
from a very serious dilemma. It was quite obvious 
that had she deviated by a hair’s breadth from the 
facts known to the police there was in waiting a 
whole host of evidence to disprove her statements. 
In that case, not only would the inquiry have been 
adjourned, but there was no small probability that 
instead of driving off to apartments in a comfortable 
hotel she might now be an inmate of a cell in the 
police station house. 

It was a curiously disquieting thought, and any 
woman might be pardoned if she dwelt on it to the 
exclusion of all else. But Mrs. Delamar swept it 
aside with the first breath of fresh air after she had 
signed her deposition, had fixed an hour for Tra- 
herne to call, and was free to get away from the 
vitiated atmosphere of the court. In very truth, 
her soul was wrapped up in a discovery that was 
almost stupefying. The Claude Waverton who gave 
testimony at the inquest was not the Claude Waver- 
ton she had wheedled from allegiance to his wife 
and child! It was not a mere matter of differences 
in voice, gestures, face, and manner that perplexed 
Mrs. Delamar. She had encountered a man whose 
character differed from that of the Claude Waverton 
she knew as dawn differs from dusk; and Mrs. Dela- 
mar was a shrewd judge of character. 

260 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

She was quite certain that she could never have 
drawn this later Claude Waverton into her toils, 
and, for that very reason, she would never have 
tried to achieve the impossible task. It was incon- 
ceivable that a rap on the head could convert a 
profligate into a man of fine instincts, a roue into a 
quiet-mannered gentleman, a brainless sot into an 
individuality of such strength that it dominated men 
like the District Attorney, the Coroner, and those 
preternaturally alert and sharp-eyed detectives. 

Granted even that these marvels might be accom- 
plished, they did not account for the undoubted fact 
that Claude Waverton, the gambler and drunkard, 
spoke Spanish so badly that he was barely able to 
stammer through an order to a peon or a transaction 
in a store ; whereas his “ double ” was thoroughly 
proficient in the language. Moreover, he himself 
was aware of this distinction between the linguistic 
attainments of the one man and the other, and in- 
stantly she asked, with growing amazement, why he 
had dared to emphasize it in public. 

Who was he, then? How had he attained such 
close knowledge of Waverton’s history and associates 
as to step coolly into his shoes? Was he the man 
supposed to have been killed on the Boynton Road? 
Was it possible that she could have been mistaken 
in his identity? She saw now that this astonishing 
thing was possible. He had been carried to her 
house, a limp and pallid form, his face disfigured 
and his hair matted with congealed blood. Strange 


No Other Way 

doctors and nurses had taken charge of him, and, 
when she was first admitted to the room, his head 
was swathed in bandages and his hair had been 
propped closely to permit of the scalp wounds being 
dressed efficiently. Moreover, how like he was to the 
real Claude Waverton! 

Mrs. Delamar’s next thought was worthy of a 
woman who had contrived to live on her wits during 
the last few years. If the present Claude Waverton 
was an impostor, how could she best turn the dis- 
covery to her own advantage? And did she share 
the secret with any other person? Was there not 
a good deal of veiled innuendo in the curiously hos- 
tile attitude adopted by the District Attorney, and 
why had New York interfered in a New Jersey in- 
quiry? She, in common with most people in court, 
had wondered why Forbes had no questions to put 
to Waverton; but, on the supposition that the 
authorities were on the same track as herself, it was 
easy to see that they were only holding their hands 
now in order to strike with irresistible force later. 
What they did not know they guessed, and they were 
waiting until supposition became certainty before 
they acted. 

Then the notion came that she, as an ally, would 
be of immense value to a man in Waverton’s place 
if called on to fight for the retention of name and 
estate. She smiled a little at that conception of a 
new role. Every adventuress must occasionally be 
candid with herself, whether she is consulting a mir- 
262 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

ror or her conscience, and Mrs. Delamar frankly 
admitted that she had grown rather afraid of Wav- 
erton since the day in Palm Beach when he was 
able to leave his room and calmly announce his 
intentions, — that he meant to go forthwith to a 
hotel, and that she must regard the sum of twenty- 
five thousand dollars won at Schwartz’s gambling 
house as his farewell token of esteem. 

True, she had tried to persuade herself that she 
would win him back as soon as his health was re- 
stored, and she encouraged Tearle’s ambitions with 
regard to Doris Waverton as supplying a final cause 
of estrangement between husband and wife. But 
there ever had peeped up in her mind a lurking 
fear lest her plans might miscarry because of some 
new and unforeseen development in Waverton him- 
self. Now she had learned the unsuspected genesis 
of her doubt. Never again would she distrust her 
intuition. It almost amused her to conjure up the 
form and manner of the next meeting between Wav- 
erton and herself ; for she meant to drive a hard bar- 
gain, — nothing less than marriage would satisfy 
her; the price of her silence, or, if needful, of her 
support, would be a wedding ring. 

It was, perhaps, the strangest feature in a strange 
case that two women, one a charming and modest 
woman to her fingertips, the other a true daughter 
of the horse leech, who had willingly bartered her 
reputation for the doubtful gifts of fashion, should 
perceive and be swayed by the finer qualities of heart 

263 


No Other Way 

and brain displayed by the present holder of the 
name of Waverton as compared with his predecessor. 

If Mrs. Delamar’s suspicions were well founded, 
she hardly knew the man at all, and had not spoken 
to him on more than three occasions in her life; yet 
now she was weighing the chances that would make 
her legally his wife, insure for her the recognized 
position she coveted, and confirm for all time an 
audacious and almost unprecedented fraud. 

As a commencement, she tried to throw over that 
largely built person, John Stratton Tearle. 

44 The game is up, Jack,” she said, when the door 
of a private sitting-room had closed on them in the 
hotel; for Tearle had traveled to Atlantic City by 
the night mail, but had judged it prudent to keep 
away from the inquest, when Mrs. Delamar told him 
of the mischance that led to a couple of detectives 
witnessing their leave-taking at New York. 

44 Whose game, or what game P ” he demanded 
crossly ; for he too had been weighing possibilities 
during some care-laden hours. 

46 Yours, of course — and mine, as well,” Mrs. Del- 
amar added hurriedly, since there was no sense in 
converting a friend into an enemy by hinting that 
their interests were not jointly endangered. 

44 What has happened, Feena? Come to the point 
in plain English. You and I can afford to talk to 
each other in that way, you know.” 

There was an ugly glint in her ally’s eyes which 
warned her that some display of tact was advisable. 
264 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

“ I cannot fight against the Detective Bureau,” 
she said sadly, and with due pretense of calm despair. 
“ Those wretched men have ferreted out everything. 
We thought this morning that our mistake lay in 
being seen together in New York ; but that is a 
mere trifle compared with the reality. They put me 
on the witness stand, and made me tell everything. 
Luckily, I was wise enough to see that the position 
was desperate, and called for transparent honesty 
and truthfulness. Oh, Jack, if I had tried to hum- 
bug the horrid lawyer who was sent here by the 
bureau to conduct the case for the police, I do 
believe they would have arrested me ! ” 

“On what charge?” 

“ They actually seemed to suspect me of poison- 
ing Herbert.” 

“ Oh, did they? ” 

“ Yes. But don’t you be beastly, too, and speak 
in that unsympathetic way; for my nerves are all 
on edge, and I shall scream in a minute.” 

“ I don’t see what good screaming will do. Am I 
to understand that you are identified as Josephine 
Delamar? ” 

“Worse, far worse! They made me tell about 
you.” 

“ What about me ? ” 

“ That you and I are friends of long standing, 
that we write to each other constantly, that I wrote 
to you at Narragansett Pier.” 

Tearle sprang up from the chair into which his 

265 


No Other Way 

bulk had subsided. His red face was blazing with 
wrath, and his long upper lip was raised like a 
snarling dog’s. “ What in Hades had my friend- 
ship and letters and whereabouts got to do with an 
inquiry into Kyrle’s death? ” he demanded fiercely. 

“Don’t be vulgar, Jack! Herbert poisoned him- 
self, it seems. And I had innocently obtained crys- 
tals of nicotine for him from a drugstore at Palm 
Beach — long ago. They brought the man there, and 
he proved it. Don’t glare at me in that fashion. 
If you can’t behave yourself, go away — you will find 
a very full report in the newspapers, I am sure. 
Before you go, kindly ring for a waiter. I want a 
cup of tea.” 

He rang, ordered the tea and a highball, and 
managed to smile so pleasantly that Mrs. Delamar 
was secretly afraid, and longed to be rid of him. 

“ You must not excite my curiosity and then tell 
me to run away and buy a newspaper, Feena,” he 
said, ominously calm ; for he was one whose habit 
lay rather with splutterings of rage when angered. 
“ Even the newspaper cannot vie with you in accu- 
racy, and, what is vastly more important, in clear- 
ness of explanation. Thus far, your story has been 
incoherent. Now, gather your wits, and tell me 
all about it.” 

Mrs. Delamar scented danger as a horse will scent 
a lion from afar. If Tearle was to be got rid of, 
she must use all her arts and hoodwink him thor- 
oughly. To begin, there must be no apparent con- 
266 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

cealment. So she sipped her tea, and went through 
the proceedings at the inquest with absolute accu- 
racy, though she said not a syllable anent the sub- 
stitution of one man for the other as Claude Waver- 
ton. 

Tearle listened in silence. She had reached the 
end, and was waiting for some expression of his 
opinion, when Traherne was announced. 

“ This is the lawyer you instructed, isn’t it ? ” 
said her companion, rising. 

“ Yes. I asked him to come and discuss matters 
with me; but I really don’t want him. He can do 
nothing.” 

“ Never mind. Let him look after your interests 
locally. Don’t you see, Feena, how jolly awkward 
it would be for you if anyone told the police that 
you watched Herbert starting away in the cutter, 
and drinking the decoction you bought for him in 
drugstores at Trenton and other places ? ” 

A frail china teacup fell to the floor from Mrs. 
Delamar’s hand, and was shattered ; but Tearle 
affected a callous indifference to the woman’s 
blanched face and staring eyes. As for her voice, 
it failed her completely at this crisis. 

“ I’ll meet you at dinner,” he said carelessly over 
his shoulder. “ Don’t say too much to the lawyer, 
and, when we have dined, you and I will have a long 
chat. The situation demands it.” And with that 
he was gone. 

How Clancy would have gloated over 66 the man 

267 


No Other Way 

with the telescope ” had he been privileged to over- 
hear the conversation between this precious pair ! 

Not that his inability to be omniscient and omni- 
present really mattered a great deal ; for he and 
Steingall were closeted with Forbes at that moment, 
and the talk was of the same topic, with a difference. 

“ I really believe Kyrle committed suicide ; but 
hoped that circumstantial evidence would hang his 
wife,” said Steingall, announcing his views with the 
directness that was his well-marked characteristic 
when a case had reached its crucial stage. 

“ I never thought otherwise,” chirped Clancy. 

“ No, you didn’t. In fact, we agreed with each 
other in principle; but differed as to detail.” 

“ And you may both be wrong,” said Forbes 
sourly; for he was not pleased by the way the in- 
quiry had gone. 

“You really don’t think that, Mr. Forbes,” said 
Steingall, smiling. “ If I might pry into the legal 
mind, I should hazard a guess that, while you speak 
of Mrs. Delamar with your lips, in your heart, or 
brain, or wherever one feels most deeply, you are 
longing to get equal with the present Claude G. 
Waverton.” 

“ The easiest thing ! ” purred Clancy. 

“Don’t talk nonsense!” snapped Forbes. “I 
don’t believe there is a man living who could force 
that fellow to incriminate himself. Did you ever 
hear a cooler change of tune than he carried through 
to-day? And, mark you, he convinced the court. 

268 


A Reshuffling of the Pack 

Test him with any given incident, and says he, 
4 That is one of the things I have forgotten.’ And 
he can bring twenty doctors to prove that his de- 
fect is not only genuine, but has a long and serious 
Greek name. An easy thing, indeed I Anyone who 
wants this case can have it where I am concerned ! ” 

Steingall offered Forbes a cigar, which was curtly 
declined, whereupon he nipped the end off it for 
himself ; but Clancy only sniggered again, because 
he knew that he was irritating a hard-headed Amer- 
ican Scot. 

“ I don’t blame you for losing heart, Mr. Forbes,” 
he said. “ You lawyers invariably go by the statute 
made and provided, and if you cannot fit your facts 
into a clause you find fault with the facts, never 
with the clause. Now, I don’t often prophesy, as 
Steingall here will tell you, nor am I a betting man ; 
but I predict now that within a week from to-day 
Claude Waverton will either confess that he is 
Charles Scott, or bolt. If you disagree with me, 
I’ll bet a new hat on it, and you yourself shall judge 
whether I have won or lost.” 

“What sort of hat? ” inquired Forbes. 

“ Oh, as the weather is hot, shall we say a twenty- 
dollar Panama? ” and Clancy managed to wink at 
Steingall unseen by the other. 

“ Man, are you crazy to talk about giving twenty 
dollars for a hat? Anyhow, I’ll go you my twenty 
to yours, hard cash.” 

“ The winner to stand a dinner,” put in Steingall. 

269 


No Other Way 

Forbes considered the point. He regarded the 
money as being as nearly his as was possible in 
regard to a bet, and he could afford to be generous 
with a little detective’s superfluous wealth. 

66 Done ! ” said he. 

“ Look here ! ” cried Steingall. “ I want to be in 
this. Suppose our worthy friend makes out that he 
really is Claude Waverton, and convinces Forbes 
himself that he is telling the truth, who wins ? ” 

“ I do,” claimed Forbes. 

“ Hardly. Both you and Clancy agree that he 
is a fraud. The point at variance between you is 
simply this, — within a week, will he own up or 
vanish? ” 

“ Tell you what,” said Clancy, “ if he proves him- 
self to be Claude Waverton, the bet is off, and you 
will stand the dinner ! ” 

The three dined together many days later; but 
time alone could determine which would pay, and 
why. 


270 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE ONLY WAY 

Waverton and his inseparable companion, Rice, 
returned to Lake Champlain on Thursday evening, 
and both master and man sighed contentedly when 
each was installed in his own quarters. Rice had 
read the newspapers in the train ; thus gathering 
almost as much information as if he had attended 
the inquest. Indeed, he was better able to weigh 
and analyze the evidence, since the New York papers 
had printed every word of it, and he had underlined 
a good many sentences with a pencil. 

His sallow face flushed when he read the passage 
wherein Waverton had described him as a 44 faithful 
and devoted servant and friend,” and his eye often 
traveled back to that particular paragraph, even 
while he was pondering the curious argument be- 
tween his master and the District Attorney, or the 
question that led up to the encomium on himself. 

44 Failed to remember my name when they brought 
him to Asphodel House — now, I wonder who said 
that?” mused Rice, and when, as he fully expected, 
Waverton discussed the inquest with him on the 
morning after their return, he reverted to that some- 
what significant statement. 

44 What did Mr. Traherne mean by it, sir? ” he 

271 


No Other iVay 

asked. “ Who could have put him up to tell such a 
downright lie? You knew me well enough when I 
kem in — and that was the very first minute I could 
get past Mrs. Delamar. 6 Hello, Rice ! 5 says you, 
faint-like, but with a pleasant sort of smile that fair 
choked me up, it did. 4 Good-morning, Mr. Claude,’ 
says I. 4 1 hope you are feeling better this morn- 
ing.’ And 4 Right as rain,’ says you. Not know me, 
indeed ! I wish I’d been in court when they told that 
whopper ! ” 

44 Don’t blame the lawyer, Rice,” said Waverton. 
44 The question was suggested by Mrs. Delamar. 
Possibly, it was based on some silly thing I said 
while my wits were wool-gathering.” 

44 If you had a lawyer there, sir, an’ I’d happened 
to be sittin’ near him, I’d have whispered a thing or 
two in his ear when Mrs. Delamar was in the box. 
If luck had gone ag’in you, Mr. Claude, an’ you had 
died in Asphodel House, nobody would ever have set 
eyes again on the twenty-five thousand dollars you 
pulled in at Schwartz’s place that night. Mrs. 
Delamar had your pocketbook stowed away, all 
right. I know that ! ” 

44 She was only displaying what is called an in- 
telligent anticipation of future events, Rice,” 
laughed his master, who, oddly enough, had laid 
a newspaper on the breakfast-table folded in such 
a way that it was obvious he had been reading an 
article on 44 The Future of the Argentine as a Pro- 
ducer of Rubber.” 




The Only Way 

u Ah, she’s a deep one,” said the valet. 44 She 
would never have spoken up as she did if she didn’t 
guess that the police were on her track. But pardon 
me, Mr. Claude, — wild hosses wouldn’t pull it out of 
me only for your own private ear, so to speak, — 
you did buy that stuff at the drugstore. I remem- 
ber you bringin’ it to Mrs. Delamar’s house and 
say in’ to me when I found the little parcel on your 
dressing-table, 4 Keep off of it, Rice, unless you 
want to hop it mighty quick ! ’ or words to that 
effect.” 

44 Did I tell you what the parcel contained? ” 

44 No, sir; but the druggist’s name was on a label, 
an’ a word like 4 venom,’ which is near enough to 
4 poison ’ to make one think a bit.” 

44 Quite correct. Well, forget it, and let us try 
and forget, too, that such a person as Mrs. Delamar 
is allowed to live. By the way, in case of accident, 
just send a marked copy of one of the New York 
newspapers to Mrs. Waverton. Write, if you wish, 
and say that you fancy she might like to read a full 
report, which may not have appeared in the paper 
she sees every day.” 

During a quiet and uneventful week-end, life fol- 
lowed a placid course. On a couple of days rain 
fell heavily, and Waverton did not go out, but spent 
many hours among books that in other years he had 
never opened. 

Owing to the bad weather, the automobile was not 
in requisition ; yet time did not weigh heavily on the 


No Other Way 

hands of Armand, the chauffeur, who had made the 
acquaintance of an affable Frenchman residing in 
Saginaw, a most cheery and entertaining person, who 
seemed to know the world like a gazetteer, and its 
chief inhabitants like the “ Almanach de Gotha.” 

That same Frenchman, who spoke English mar- 
velously well when it suited his purposes, quickly 
became the center of an admiring circle at the local 
hotel, in which he had secured an apartment. He 
would sit there chatting by the hour, usually on the 
veranda, whence his quick eyes would note and ask 
questions about most people who passed. 

On Saturday, a very wet day, Rice had some 
business in the little town, and strode up the road 
attired in a glistening mackintosh, leggings, and 
cap, a costume which altered his appearance so com- 
pletely that no one would ever guess he was a valet 
unless they were told. 

Feeling that a glass of beer would keep the damp 
out of his system, he entered the hotel, and inci- 
dentally learned of the Frenchman’s presence. 

“ Why, he was here a minute ago,” said the pro- 
prietor. “ I’d have liked you to meet him, Mr. Rice 
— he’s a warrior, is Monsieur Brun.” 

Rice, by reason of his travels, was an authority on 
the French nation. As a whole, one gathered, he 
did not think much of it; though there were excep- 
tions, as everyone knew. 

He finished his beer, and trudged forth refreshed. 
It would have been interesting to have learned his 


The Only Way 

views if someone had told him that Clancy, of the 
New York Detective Bureau, had passed swiftly out 
of the bar the moment before he entered it. 

That evening the young woman who attended to 
telegrams at Saginaw was somewhat puzzled by the 
text of a message handed in by the valued guest of 
the local hotel. The addressee was a word registered 
in New York; but the remainder was curiously sim- 
ple, yet unmeaning, for it read: 

The missing word was navaja. 

She bent her brows in vain over the enigma, and 
might have been gratified had she known that In- 
spector Steingall, enthroned in his Centre Street 
sanctum, was compelled to smoke the best part of 
a cigar before he remembered that Claude Waver- 
ton had hesitated, and finally balked altogether, over 
explaining the craft that enabled him to bring down 
the gallant-looking Tearle so neatly that day on 
the promenade at Narragansett Pier. It was the 
only 44 missing word ” he could think of in connec- 
tion with the Waverton case, and even now 44 navaja 99 
sounded more like one of Clancy’s far-fetched jokes 
than a sober explanation of fact. 

Once, however, Steingall had succeeded in locat- 
ing the incident to which his colleague’s telegram 
referred, his active brain could not dismiss it. He 
expected a letter from Clancy on Sunday, and was 
sure that the 44 Little Fellow ” had despatched the 
telegram as an avant courrier merely to perplex the 
275 


No Other Way 

“ Big Fellow.” The letter now in the post -would 
explain everything. Meanwhile, Steingall could not 
put that curious word out of his mind, and, in 
the long run, this is the line of reasoning he 
adopted : 

Tirar la navaja , or “ knife-throwing,” is pecu- 
liarly a Mexican custom; a peculiarly unpleasant 
one, too, since an adept in the art can kill a man by 
this means at many yards’ distance. The feat de- 
mands the nicest accuracy of hand and eye. If 
Waver ton had acquired the requisite skill, he must 
have lived in Mexico; so Clancy had evidently fer- 
reted out particulars of the man’s earlier life. 
Oddly enough, on Steingall’s desk at that moment 
lay a letter from John Stratton Tearle, in which 
the writer informed the chief of the bureau that 
“ owing to certain facts that have come to my knowl- 
edge recently,” he would probably be able, within the 
next few days, to give some startling information 
“ as to the past history of the person who claimed to 
be Claude G. Waverton.” 

Charles Scott had been in the Argentine six years, 
and Tearle had come back from Arizona, near the 
Mexican line, about the time Scott first entered 
Senor Santander’s service. 

“ Poor devil ! ” mused Steingall. “ The net is 
closing round him, and I’m dashed if I don’t feel 
sorry for him. He looks and acts like a white man, 
all the time, and I believe that vindictive little imp, 
Clancy, has the same opinion of him. Personally, I 
276 


The Only Way 

shall not be a bit surprised if he lets him slip through 
his fingers at the eleventh hour.” 

Whereupon Steingall amused himself by writing 
a brief analysis of Clancy’s telegram, and posting it 
to Monsieur Brun, at Saginaw, just to prove that 
one head might be as good as another occasionally. 

Clancy chuckled when he read his chief’s display 
of deductive reasoning. 

“ Pure side ! ” he muttered. “ He wants to show 
off a bit, now that he is acquiring my method. Still, 
I wish he was here. How he would enjoy my master- 
piece of stage management to-morrow afternoon ! ” 

Early on Monday, Monsieur Brun received a tele- 
gram from New York which had been handed in at 
Madison Square the previous evening. It read: 

Have despatched code message. Answer may be delayed 
owing to difference in time. 

The prospect of delay did not seem to affect the 
Frenchman’s appetite. He ate a hearty breakfast 
and lounged about — for the rain had disappeared, 
and Saginaw was bathed in sunshine, — and generally 
wore the aspect of a man who was killing time and 
liked the task. 

About ten o’clock he strolled toward the Waver- 
ton place, using a woodland path which gave a short 
cut over a hill avoided by the road. From the top 
of the hill he could survey nearly the whole of the 
park, with its lawns and woods sloping down to 
Lake Champlain, and, sitting on a tree-stump, he 

m 


No Other Way 

watched a high-powered motor-car speeding along 
the drive. 

Claude Waverton was at the steering wheel. Ar- 
mand was by his side. 

“ Now,” thought Clancy, “ if I was in the ton- 
neau, and leaning over the back of their seat, there 
would be so much French flying about that one 
might fancy oneself in Lower Canada.” 

A hooded victoria crawling along the road caught 
his eye. It halted at the lodge gates, and, after a 
brief colloquy between its occupant and the gate- 
keeper’s wife, passed in and headed straight for the 
house, while the woman stood and gazed after it 
curiously. 

“ Now, who in the world is that? ” demanded 
Clancy, almost with anxiety. “ Mrs. Waverton is 
not due here till four o’clock. Surely, it cannot be 
Mrs. Delamar ! Perhaps it isn’t a woman at all. I’ll 
find out from the driver after he has deposited his 
fare.” 

He hurried down to the road, and waited nearly 
twenty minutes before the victoria rumbled back to- 
ward Saginaw. 

“ Hi ! Are you passing O’Hara’s ? ” cried Clancy. 
“ O’Hara’s ” was the name of the hotel. 

“Yes, sir, jump in,” said the driver; for by this 
time everyone in Saginaw had seen or heard of Mon- 
sieur Brun. 

“ No, no, I jump up — so,” and Clancy was on 
the box. Within a minute he had ascertained that 
278 


The Only Way 

the vehicle had brought from the railway station no 
less a person than Mrs. Waverton, 44 an’ the poor 
thing divorced, an’ all ! ” grinned the man. 

44 Is she? ” grinned Clancy, his face creased with 
merriment, while his very soul writhed within him; 
for he felt that this unexpectedly early visit presaged 
developments that he could not control. 

44 One would ha’ thought she’d seen enough of that 
husband of hers, she was that anxious to be rid of 
him. But she isn’t goin’ to stay here. I have to call 
for her in an hour, and bring her back to O’Hara’s.” 

44 Ah, dat excellent O’Hara ! Den I shall zee de 
lady,” said Clancy. 

44 Most likely, sir.” 

It was, indeed, more than likely. Clancy was very 
angry with Doris Waverton. She was on the boards 
at least five hours too soon, and such a contretemps 
would annoy the most phlegmatic of dramatists, let 
alone a mercurial playwright like the detective. 

In very truth, her arrival at 44 The Dene ” had 
wrought something akin to consternation. When she 
alighted from the victoria, and waited for a few 
seconds to consult her watch and speak to the driver, 
a distressed footman had hastily summoned Rice, who 
was regarded by the household as Waverton’s deputy 
in matters that could not be decided without instruc- 
tions. 

So the valet was just in time to hurry forward 
and greet his mistress as she entered the hall. He 
noticed that she was dressed in black, and was in- 
279 


No Other Way 

stantly aware of a composure of manner and per- 
ceptible stiffening of demeanor toward himself that 
were markedly absent during their last meeting. In 
fact, Doris was now convinced that Rice was a party 
to the fraud carried out by his employer, and the 
belief had weakened her faith in human nature. 

“ Is Mr. Waverton at home? ” she demanded 
coldly, and Rice fancied she placed a sarcastic em- 
phasis on the name. 

“ He is motoring about the grounds, ma’am,” said 
Rice. 

64 Kindly send for him, or go yourself, and tell 
him he must come at once. I shall wait for him in the 
library.” 

Without vouchsafing another word of explana- 
tion, she crossed the hall. Her glance fell on her 
own portrait, smiling from the landing, and, by curi- 
ous chance, the first object her eyes found in the 
library was a photograph of herself, placed on a 
writing-table near a window. 

She examined it critically, almost scornfully. 

“ What a poser the man is ! ” she thought. “ I 
suppose he imagines now that the role of a regretful 
husband is a good one to adopt.” 

Nevertheless, her smooth brow was ruffled by dis- 
covering the portrait on a table that was obviously 
in regular use by the wretch who had usurped the 
name and place of Claude Waverton. Moreover, her 
recollection of him — be it remembered she had seen 
him only once, by night, and in the stress of a deep 
280 


The Only Way 

emotion; for the casual glimpse obtained at Narra- 
gansett Pier hardly counted — did not quite accord 
with her present theory. 

Her thoughts flew back to that remarkable meet- 
ing, and her pale face crimsoned for a moment as she 
recalled the loverlike way in which her “ husband ” 
had carried her in his arms. Oh, the incredible im- 
pertinence of the man ! She almost wished she had 
not yielded to impulse, and had obeyed the behests 
of that imperious little detective, who had impressed 
on her the great importance of not presenting her- 
self before half-past three or four o’clock in the 
afternoon ; whereas the hour was now little after ten 
in the morning. 

She had not long to wait. Rice intercepted the 
car at some point near the house, and told Waverton 
that his wife was in the library, and wished to see him 
instantly. 

A curious grayness appeared beneath the tan on 
Waverton’s face as he listened; but he merely 
nodded, touched the switch, and the car sped off 
again, this time in the direction of the house. He 
stopped short of the main entrance, and evidently 
intended to cross the lawn. 

44 Fill up the tanks, Armand,” he said. 44 And put 
some rugs and coats inside. We may go for a long 
run this afternoon ; indeed, it is possible we may 
be away for the night.” 

Then he walked slowly to the drawing-room, which 
he entered through an open window, passed from 

m 


No Other Way 

there to the hall, muttered an order to a servant 
to tell Rice, when he came in, to pack a motoring 
valise for a journey and strap it on the car, and so 
reached the library door. 

He did not hesitate, but turned the handle of 
the door quietly. As quietly he closed the door be- 
hind him, and, after glancing at Doris, peered round 
the room to see if she was alone. She was sitting 
with her back to the window, and looked at him with 
strange intentness as he drew near; but she did not 
rise, and for a moment there was strained silence. 
Then Waverton, who seemed to be really the more 
self-possessed of the two, halted in front of the table 
on which stood the photograph. It might have been 
chance, but he could not have chosen any other posi- 
tion where he would be less exposed to a brilliant 
light, and he smiled slightly as he met the woman’s 
searching, indignant, and somewhat amazed scrutiny. 

66 1 have been told that you had sent for me,” he 
said. 66 May I ask to what is due the honor of this 
visit ? ” 

The astounding impudence of the man was help- 
ful. It served to strengthen a resolution that, never 
very pronounced, was rapidly weakening under the 
subtle influence of environment ; so Doris pulled her- 
self together, and tackled a disagreeable duty. 

“ I have no wish to enter into a discussion with 
you,” she said ; “ so I shall state my purpose in the 
fewest and plainest words. The police are aware of 
your identity, Mr. Charles Scott. They have known 
282 


The Only Way 

it for some time, and have held back from active 
measures only in order to secure undeniable proof 
of the audacious imposture you have carried through 
so successfully. They sought my cooperation; but, 
for some reason, wished me to remain inactive till 
this afternoon. On consideration, however, I came 
to the conclusion that, no matter how cruel the fraud 
you have practiced on me, there remains the un- 
doubted fact that you saved my child from death; 
so I am here to warn you that you will be arrested 
before sunset. I don’t see that any good purpose 
will be served if you are sentenced to a long term in 
prison, and I hope, therefore, that you will profit by 
the chance I am giving you, and escape to some 
distant country, if it be possible. I think, too, that 
Rice ought to go away. I don’t understand much 
about these things ; but I fear he has rendered him- 
self liable to punishment by helping you to imper- 
sonate my husband, and, in any event, he cannot re- 
main here, as I mean to return this evening, and 
take formal possession of the house and its contents 
on behalf of my daughter. If you have any sense 
of honesty, you will sit down instantly and write a 
full confession of your crime, and give it to me. In 
return, I promise to do what I can to throw the au- 
thorities off your track, or at least to minimize their 
efforts to arrest you. They will probably be very 
angry with me; but I cannot help it. For my little 
Kathleen’s sake, I want to show you some clemency.” 

Doris had framed this speech carefully. It con- 

883 


No Other Way 

tained not a word that she did not believe to be true, 
and she fully expected to see the counterfeit Claude 
Waverton wilt and cower under its outspoken de- 
nunciation. Yet he did nothing of the kind; and, 
though his brazenness passed all belief, she felt some 
portion of her valor yielding, and she ended far less 
confidently than she began. 

46 Let me understand you clearly, Mrs. Waverton,” 
said the man, and her eyes dropped under the di- 
rectness, almost the fervor, of his gaze. 46 You re- 
gard me as a scoundrel; but you wish to save me 
from the just rigor of the law?” 

Clearly he waited for an answer; so Doris forced 
herself to say, 44 Yes.” 

44 Well, you will be glad you said that when you 
learn the truth about me. You are the one person 
on earth to whom I would open my lips as to the 
past; but I know that I can trust you, and I regret 
now that I have not taken you into my confidence 
sooner.” 

Doris was beginning to feel a vague alarm at the 
unexpected way in which her self-willed maneuver 
was developing, and some tardy recognition of ad- 
vice dinned into her ears by Clancy came to her aid. 

44 Please, Mr. Scott,” she said, 44 1 think you ought 
to write anything you have to say, or, if you really 
cannot write, let me summon some independent wit- 
ness, the butler, for instance.” 

Waverton laughed pleasantly. 44 1 am quite sure 
that the presence of the butler, or any other do- 
284 


The Only Way 

mestic, would be profoundly irksome to you before 
I had uttered twenty words,” he said. 44 Now, you 
have set me a good example, which I mean to emu- 
late. My name is not Charles Scott. I am Claude 
Waverton, your husband’s cousin, and to a certain 
extent his heir. I have robbed nobody of a penny, 
nor injured anyone in any tangible way. A good 
deal of the money he squandered was mine beyond 
question, and such part of the estate as should have 
gone with it represents an annual income that is a 
good deal less than the sum I have reserved for my 
own use after paying your alimony. I may never 
marry, — certainly not without your sanction, — so 
your daughter will succeed to the whole property at 
my death ; and, in the not altogether impossible event 
of my continued existence at the time of her marriage, 
I should take care that her settlements were satisfac- 
tory. I am telling you the literal truth, Mrs. Wav- 
erton. I am really and truly Claude Waverton ; my 
namesake and cousin, who was also the son of my 
father’s brother and partner, having crushed his 
head to a pulp in the moment when he nearly killed 
me — though, of course, by accident. 

44 It was that selfsame accident which befriended 
me. It gave me another chance in life, and I took 
it. If I came back into the world as Claude Waver- 
ton, I was able to return to my native country, to 
hear my own language spoken once more, to move 
among my fellow men with confidence, to experience 
again, for a few brief years, the joy of life. These 
285 


No Other Way 

things were harshly denied to me in my own person- 
ality. If I reappeared as the Claude Waverton who 
was supposed to have been drowned off the South 
American coast six years ago, I had but one gray 
road to follow, — that which leads to a convict’s cell. 

“ For I am an escaped convict, Mrs. Waverton. 
I was arrested in Mexico on a charge of murder, 
unjustly convicted, — though I could not prove my 
innocence, because a man who could have saved me 
swore to a falsehood, — and sentenced to be strangled. 
Owing to my nationality, added to a belief that 
the native usurer whom I was supposed to have shot 
had driven me to commit the crime by his threats of 
exposure if I did not pay my debts, the sentence was 
commuted to penal servitude for life. I resolved to 
die rather than pass the rest of my days in a Mexican 
prison ; so, at the risk of my life, I escaped, boarded 
a British merchant steamer by night, and was the 
only man thrown ashore when she was wrecked in the 
bleakest part of Paraguay. Some poor natives 
nursed me back to health, and by degrees I worked 
my way partly toward civilization. Thus I became 
Charles Scott, tutor to Don Miguel Santander’s 
family, and Fate decided that when your husband 
was killed I should be the only man who shared in 
the accident. 

“ I was badly hurt ; but retained sufficient strength 
and consciousness to crawl to his assistance. Then 
I saw that he was dead. But I saw more, I saw 
what I thought might prove my own salvation; for 
286 


The Only Way 

I recognized him, and letters and other documents 
in his pockets placed his identity beyond dispute, 
while the similarity of our ages and a marked re- 
semblance between us as boys made substitution pos- 
sible. So, wounded and stricken though I was, I 
stripped myself, and stripped him, — exchanged every 
article of attire, — and just had strength enough to 
crawl down among the rocks, where I was found, 
before I lost my senses for the best part of an hour. 

“ The rest of the story I can tell you at some 
other time, if you will permit me, since there is no 
reason why you and I should not become good friends 
in the future ; provided always that you do not carry 
out your threat, and send me back to that long term 
of penal servitude you spoke of a little while ago. 
No one can harm me if I have your support. I only 
ask you to do a little wrong in order to achieve 
a great right. Your husband’s father swindled my 
father. I can prove that to your satisfaction, or 
before any court of law in the land; but my tongue 
is tied by my Mexican sentence. So, which is it 
to be, — a few years of peace for me, or the chains 
of a felon? ” 

He had long since ceased to embarrass his hearer 
by looking at her. Seeing that she was almost fit to 
collapse with excitement, he turned away resolutely 
and gazed out over the park. His utterance was 
clear and decisive, and he condensed an extraordi- 
nary narrative of suffering, danger, and hardship 
into a few straightforward, careless sentences which 
287 


No Other Way 

bore the impress of truth in every syllable, even 
though they might be far too confident. Her heart 
was fluttering in the maddest way. What did he 
mean by talking about obtaining her sanction, if he 
wanted to get married, and hinting at “ friendship ” 
between them? Why, such a notion was crazy — yet 
he seemed to regard it as a reasonable thing! She 
could scarcely think. There was a singing in her 
ears. She wanted to cover her face with her hands ; 
for she dared not meet his eyes. 

When Waver ton stopped speaking he waited a 
long while — many minutes it seemed to Doris ; though 
in reality it could not have been more than a few 
seconds — before he faced her again. 

“ Well,” he said, smiling wistfully, “ what are you 
going to do about it? The whole business is under 
your control now, Mrs. Waverton. You say you are 
grateful to me for having saved your child’s life. 
Well, it goes against the grain to claim that as an 
asset in my favor; but it ought to weigh a little bit 
against the annoyance of being regarded as my di- 
vorced wife during the next few months. I beg your 
pardon — I mean, of course, the annoyance of having 
me figure as your divorced husband during that 
period. And you are free — free to marry whom you 
choose; though not free, thank God! to marry John 
Stratton Tearle, the man who swore my life away 
in Mexico, because he hated me as one who was aware 
of his discreditable transactions among the Indians 
in Arizona. Perhaps you do not know it, but that 
288 


The Only Way 

is one other item in my claim for gratitude. No mat- 
ter what the risk to myself, I was determined to 
stop his pursuit of you. And I fancy I succeeded, 
since I know you well enough already to be sure that 
you could never again care to be seen speaking to a 
man who was admittedly the friend and confidant of 
a degraded woman like — ” 

There was a discreet knock at the door. 

44 Come in,” said Waverton, after a sharp glance 
at Doris to make sure that she was not so distressed 
in manner as to invite notice. 

46 If you please, sir,” said a footman, 44 there’s a 
lady here who insists on seeing you immediately.” 

44 A lady! What is her name?” 

44 Mrs. Delamar, sir ! ” said the man, in an awed 
tone. 

Waverton said afterward that he knew then how a 
man feels when his executioner enters the cell and 
wakes him from a pleasant dream. For once com- 
pletely nonplussed, he looked at Doris as though 
for counsel. 

44 Send Mrs. Delamar in here,” she said to the 
footman, speaking with the magnificent self-control 
wherein a woman sometimes shows her superiority to 
a mere man. 

44 1 am more than glad that you and I have reached 
some sort of understanding,” she said, smiling 
sweetly at Waverton. 44 1 think it will be mutually 
helpful if we face this dragon together. Do you 
agree? You must decide quickly ! ” 

289 


No Other Way 

He stooped over her, and his hand rested for an 
instant on her shoulder. “ When the Lord created 
Paradise, he also created woman as man’s helpmate,” 
he said thickly, and then, with a swish of silk and an 
air of complete dominance, Mrs. Delamar entered. 


290 


CHAPTER XVII 


WHEREIN THE “ WAVERTON CASE ” COLLAPSES 

Two things were immediately discernible from 
Mrs. Delamar’s demeanor, — she did not recognize 
Doris Waverton, because she had never seen her, and 
the portraits published in the press at the time of 
the divorce proceedings would serve Doris excellently 
either as a disguise or to prove an alibi ; and she was 
quite unprepared for the presence of another woman 
in the room. 

But she was in no wise disconcerted. An adven- 
turess of the front rank, a woman accustomed to 
carry herself well in society, she advanced without 
flurry or perceptible lack of ease. 

“ Sorry if I am intruding, Clo-Clo,” she said, os- 
tentatiously disregarding Doris after the first glance 
of surprise. “ The fact is, I rushed here from Al- 
bany in an auto, as I felt I had to have a long chat 
w r ith you on some very important business. I came 
away soon after daybreak, and stopped only once 
near Lake George for a snack while my chauffeur 
was replenishing the gasolene tank. Would you 
mind ordering me some breakfast? Anything will 
do. We can talk while I eat.” 

Determined to carry Waverton by storm, she 

291 


No Other Way 

evidently meant to hold out her well-gloved hand; 
but she had the sense to refrain when she looked 
into his eyes. 

“ It sounds rather inhospitable, but I would sug- 
gest that you run on into the town,” he said. “ It 
is only a mile away, and you will find a very fair 
hotel there, O’Hara’s.” 

Mrs. Delamar only smiled. She was sure of her 
quarry; but her sharp scrutiny had detected a re- 
semblance between the hatted and veiled lady seated 
near the window and the photograph on the table. 
The discovery induced a certain wariness. 

“ I don’t wish to disturb your household arrange- 
ments,” she said sweetly, “ and I can wait for a meal 
till I reach the hotel you speak of ; but I must have a 
few minutes’ private talk with you first. It is abso- 
lutely imperative.” 

“ Have you something to say that you do not wish 
Mrs. Waverton to hear? ” 

Mrs. Delamar almost started. So her half-formed 
suspicion was correct, — the woman whose face was 
in the shadow was really Doris Waverton! Well, the 
position bristled with difficulties; but she would not 
withdraw now. Why should she? If Mrs. Waver- 
ton had been so egregiously deceived, the fact 
only rendered her position all the more impreg- 
nable. 

“ That is exactly as you choose, Clo-Clo,” she 
said ; then she added, apparently as an afterthought, 
“ Perhaps you don’t like me to use that name before 
292 


The “ Waverton Case " Collapses 

— before Mrs. Waverton? What shall I call you, 
then? Not Claude, surely?” 

“ Am I to understand, Claude, that this person is 
Mrs. Kyrle, alias Josephine Delamar? ” broke in 
Doris’s voice, calm and well-modulated as if this 
chance encounter was the preliminary to a luncheon 
party. 

“ Yes,” said Waverton, secretly amazed at this 
girl-widow’s attitude ; though he had sense enough to 
play up to it valiantly. “ You see for yourself, 
Doris, that Mrs. Delamar’s visit was unexpected, and 
it rests wholly with you whether or not you care to 
hear what she has to communicate.” 

Mrs. Waverton flashed a look of unutterable scorn 
at Mrs. Delamar. “ I prefer to remain,” she said. 
Then she turned a nonchalant gaze on her adversary. 
“ Will you be good enough to explain yourself 
briefly to Mr. Waverton, and then leave us? ” 

Mrs. Delamar’s urbanity was unshaken by this 
direct attack. It would not serve her purpose to 
unmask her batteries before Doris; though she would 
have dearly loved to tumble her rival’s citadel of dis- 
dain in ruins about her feet. As it was, she disre- 
garded her, with a deliberate indifference that was 
intended to gall, and was certainly well assumed. 
When all was said and done, the pretty little fool 
would soon have to abandon any dream she might 
harbor of reclaiming her divorced husband ! 

“ I can only urge the expediency of a private con- 
versation,” she said, looking calmly at Waverton. 
293 


No Other Way 

“I am actuated solely by regard for your own in- 
terests; in this matter, at any rate. Afterward you 
can decide whether or not you care to share con- 
fidences with a third party.” 

Clancy would have reveled in this play of in- 
nuendo, this clawing of soft flesh beneath fine raiment ; 
but Waverton, fearful on Doris’s account, looked 
and felt profoundly uncomfortable. He knew, of 
course, what lay behind Mrs. Delamar’s self-imposed 
mission, and that he must have Mrs. Waverton’s 
active help if that mission were to fail; but he 
could not bring himself to seek the cooperation he 
needed, and was actually on the point of suggesting 
the transference of this unwelcome visitor to the 
drawing-room, when Doris sprang to the rescue. 

“ Have you come here, Mrs. Kyrle,” she said, “ to 
amuse my husband with the ridiculous canard whis- 
pered by some evil-minded person that he is not 
Claude Waverton, but a man named Charles Scott, 
tutor to a Spanish gentleman from the Argentine? 
If that is all, you have taken needless trouble in the 
matter, because, notwithstanding the unhappy rela- 
tionship which Claude and I bear to each other, I 
cannot refuse him a wife’s assistance in crushing 
such a stupid and malevolent invention. It reached 
my ears through the authorities, and I am here at 
their request to refute it, fully and finally.” 

Waverton drew a breath between his teeth with a 
sibilant sound, as though he had been running, yet 
meant, by sheer force t>f will, to conceal the stress 
294 * 


The “ Waverton Case " Collapses 

and effort of his lungs. What a glorious creature 
was this slim, girlish-looking woman ! How fear- 
lessly had she drawn a sword in his behalf! With 
what an air had she thrown aside the scabbard! 
During a few blissful seconds he ignored the preci- 
pice at his feet, and saw only the fair prospect be- 
yond, whither the fickle goddess was beckoning him 
to a domain so entrancing that its mere vision bereft 
him of his senses. 

But Mrs. Delamar hugged no illusions. Had 
Doris struck her in the face, she could not have been 
more surprised than when the story of Waverton’s 
imposture was so coolly flung in her teeth, and by 
the last person alive whom she would have suspected 
of championing his cause. She saw now, with the un- 
erring instinct of her class, that the man would sink 
to the perdition of a convict settlement rather than 
marry her, and it only remained to maim and trample 
on the woman who despised her so openly. 

44 1 think I begin to understand the bearings of 
an affair that, I admit, puzzled me at first,” she said, 
choosing her words with deadly intent, and looking 
from one to the other of her hearers with quiet 
malice. 44 Claude Waverton is dead. I know it now, 
and you two know it, but hope to bluff me out of my 
knowledge. Of course if Claude Waverton came to 
life again, his widow would not be a widow but a 
divorcee. What a pretty romance ! I seem to have 
stepped in at an untimely moment. I have inter- 
rupted a rehearsal. Well, I leave you to it. I can- 
295 


No Other Way 

not say I give you my blessing, because that would 
not be true. In fact, Mrs. Waverton, alias Mrs. 
Charles Scott, I forbid the banns ! ” 

And with that she was gone. Before either of 
them uttered a word, they heard the snorting of an 
engine which had been stopped and needed to be 
started again by hand. Evidently, Mrs. Delamar’s 
chauffeur had anticipated a longer rest after the 
long run from Albany. 

Doris Waverton rose and threw open the window. 
The action was eloquent. “ What a horrid person ! ” 
she sighed, with such uncontrolled relief that Waver- 
ton’s eyes kindled for a second, though his brow was 
clouded; and if Doris had not been so overwrought 
she must have noticed his brooding anxiety. 

“ I think we have got the worst over now,” said 
he, forcing a smile when she turned her radiant eyes 
full on him at the sound of his voice. 

“ Yes ; but I have yet a difficult task to perform. 
I must try and hoodwink that little detective man. 
Will that be possible, do you think? Don’t you 
see, no matter how much he may suspect that you are 
Charles Scott, he cannot prove it against such a 
heap of witnesses. What can he do against so 
many, — Rice, and the other servants, and your law- 
yer — and myself ? ” 

Poor Doris ! Her illogical summing up of the odds 
in his favor had a pathetic side to which she was 
blind. The valet, who, half an hour ago, was recom- 
mended to clear out of the country to avoid prosecu- 
296 


The “ Waverton Case " Collapses 

tion, was now cited as providing irrefutable testimony 
in Waverton’s favor. She was thinking only of 
danger to Waverton because the police had discov- 
ered that he was Scott, the unknown, whereas the 
real and active danger lay now with Mrs. Delamar 
and Tearle. Inquiry meant ultimate discovery, — 
of that Waverton had no manner of doubt, — but he 
would have cut off his right hand rather than dash 
the enthusiasm of his new-found friend in this mo- 
ment of triumph mingled with defeat. 

“ I cannot tell you now how sensible I am of your 
goodness to me,” he murmured, striving almost fran- 
tically to frame words that would convey no hint of 
the purpose taking shape in his mind. “ Some other 
day, when our sky is less troubled, I may, perhaps, 
have an opportunity to thank you for the trust you 
are reposing in me. But if I am to win clear of the 
present morass, I must know at least in which direc- 
tion lies the path to safety. You speak of a detec- 
tive. I think his name is Clancy, a far more subtle 
and dangerous man than his colleague, Steingall, 
whom you may not have met. Is he close at hand? 
Do you know when and where to look for 
him? ” 

“ Oh,” she gasped, yielding to a new terror, “ he 
is staying at O’Hara’s i He will meet that woman ! 
She will tell him she has been here, and if she repeats 
any of the dreadful things she said just now he may 
become suspicious of an understanding between us. 
Ah ! it is useless now to think how differently we 

m 


No Other Way 

might have dealt with this trying situation. Why 
didn’t you meet me at Narragansett Pier? You were 
not afraid to give me your confidence to-day; yet I 
would have been just as ready to listen then.” 

It was on the tip of his tongue to remind her 
that he fled from Narragansett Pier because he had 
not seen her; but he crushed the impulse, though his 
heart pounded in fierce tumult as he watched the 
color ebb and flow in her face, and realized that no 
slight share of her agitation arose from vague 
glimpses of the nature of the extraordinary alliance 
forced on them by circumstances. 

Above all else, it was essential that he should gain 
time, and he clutched at the straw offered by her 
frenzied reference to Mrs. Delamar. 

44 Let me understand the position exactly,” he 
said. 44 You came here by Clancy’s advice. You 
were to take possession, — force my hand, in fact, — 
and, whether I yielded or showed fight, he was to 
bring up the heavy artillery of the law this after- 
noon. Is that it? ” 

She nodded miserably. 

44 Very well,” he said. I think I can checkmate 
Mrs. Delamar, at any rate. Now, I want you to 
remain here, while I go and find this detective. That 
is the last thing Mrs. Delamar will expect; so it is 
a display of sound tactics. I shall reason with him, 
in all probability bring him back with me. By that 
time some of the excitement will have cooled down, 
and you will be better prepared to assure him that 
298 


The “ Waverton Case” Collapses 

I am unquestionably Claude Waverton. Then we 
must part, you to travel to Narragansett Pier, 
very much out of humor with the police, and I to 
perfect my defenses against other assaults. It may 
not be the wisest of plans ; but it is the only one I 
can conjure up at the moment, and it certainly prom- 
ises to serve our purpose, which is to disarm official 
inquiry — at any rate, for the present.” 

“ I shall be on tenterhooks till you return,” said 
Doris, and her eyes grew moist. Not for an instant 
had she doubted Waverton’s story. Womanlike, she 
put intuition before reason, and she knew now why 
she had placed faith in this man since the hour of 
that impassioned appeal during their meeting on the 
shore of the lake. 

“ Before I go, there is one thing I want to say, 
and which I hope you will remember,” he said, in a 
voice so strained and grave that it penetrated the 
very fiber of her being. “ After to-day, deceit is 
at an end between you and me. You have shown 
your belief in me, Mrs. Waverton, in such conditions 
as few men might hope to be tested by and survive 
the ordeal. You will never regret it, never ! No mat- 
ter what befalls in the future, I shall take good care 
that your trust is not falsified.” 

Then he left her, without daring even to touch 
her hand, lest his fortitude should prove unequal to 
the strain he was about to impose on it. She listened 
for the departure of his automobile, and then rang 
for Rice. She felt that she dared not remain alone; 
299 


No Other Way 

for her brain was on fire with amazing thoughts, and 
it would be a relief to force herself to talk. 

But Rice was not in the house. Waverton had 
taken him in the motor. 

“ The valet cannot be going very far, madam,” 
said the footman, “ because he went without his 
hat.” 

This argument was convincing; so Doris wan- 
dered out into the garden, but with ever an eye for 
the main avenue, and, when Rice appeared, bare- 
headed and walking rapidly, she went to meet him. 

Before she could speak, he handed her a letter. He 
looked very much concerned, almost woebegone; for 
by this time he was well acquainted with his master’s 
ways. 

£< Mr. Claude wrote this at the lodge, madam, an’ 
told me to bring it to you without delay,” he 
said. 

She grew pale, without knowing why; but when 
she opened the letter her face became so gray and 
wan that the valet was alarmed. For this is what 
she read: 

Dear Mrs. Waverton. — You will be shocked and grieved 
by the course I have decided on; but I pray you to try and 
look at matters in their proper light. There is no escape 
for me now. Within a few hours, or days, the police will 
have established my identity beyond dispute. Not even your 
kind heart can save me, and I would count myself a coward 
indeed if I allowed you to injure your good name in my behalf. 

Therefore, I have gone to New York, where I shall surrender 
myself to the law. I am determined to avoid the scandal of 
a public trial, and I believe that, as an escaped convict, I 

BOO 


The “ Waverton Case " Collapses 

can be dealt with departmentally without making an appear- 
ance in court. At any rate, I shall petition the authorities to 
send me direct to Mexico. I am an innocent man; though I 
have little hope now of establishing my innocence. Still, the 
new Mexican Government may take a merciful view of my 
case, and I shall count a few years of penal servitude as 
weighing light in the scale against the degradation and suffer- 
ing you would be called on to endure if I made a useless 
effort to establish myself as the man whom I have pretended 
to be. 

Of course, I realize that you will be pained by my action; 
but, believe me, there is no other way to retrieve the blunders 
of the past. If permitted, I shall write to you. Now good-by, 
and God bless you! Claude Waverton. 

So that was what he meant when he said that her 
trust in him would not be falsified ! To save her from 
a position that she now saw to be impossible, he had 
gone back to herd with Mexican convicts. Her 
vision had suddenly become preternaturally clear. 
She had persuaded herself that her actions were dic- 
tated by gratitude to the man who had saved her 
child’s life, by womanly sympathy with one who had 
endured so many buffets at the hands of Fate. But 
all the pretense vanished in the strong, fierce light 
that beat on her soul as she stood distraught in the 
sunshine with the letter clutched in her nerveless 
fingers. 

For she loved this man; she had loved him since 
the moment when she pleaded with him mistakenly 
as a wayward husband whom she was ready to take 
back to her heart. And with the knowledge of her 
love came high resolve. She had friends, influence 

301 


No Other Way 

in high places, and she would face all rebuffs, endure 
every sneer, if only she could win his freedom. 

“Faint!” she cried, awaking from a trance at 
some startled cry of Rice’s. “ One does not faint 
when one has such a duty laid on one’s shoulders as 
your master has placed on mine. But he needs us. 
We must not lose an instant. Come with me to New 
York. I must have some human sympathy to-day, 
or I shall go mad ! ” 

She was, in truth, nearly distraught; but her pur- 
pose was immovable as a wall of brass. The valet was 
about to summon a carriage from the stables when 
the victoria that Mrs. Waverton herself had ordered 
came ambling up the avenue. 

In it was Clancy, and he leaped out when the 
vehicle overtook Doris as she was walking unsteadily 
to the house. 

“ I am here a good deal before the appointed time, 
ma’am,” he said ; “ but I have the best of reasons — ” 

He stopped; for Doris was gazing at him with an 
expression he had seen too often in a woman’s face, 
but little thought to see in hers that day. 

“ Even now you are too late,” she said, with a 
strange lilt of scornful triumph in her voice. 
“ Claude Waverton has gone to New York to give 
himself up to the authorities. If you want to know 
why, read,” and she thrust Waverton’s letter before 
Clancy’s astonished eyes. 

It was a foolish thing to do, though it supplied 
a last proof of her unconquerable faith; but the 
S02 


The cc Waverton Case” Collapses 

detective skimmed through the document with a care- 
less rapidity hardly to be expected from an officer 
of the law to whom was being revealed an extraordi- 
nary sequel to an extraordinary case. 

“ Just the sort of mad-headed scheme he would 
carry out,” he cried joyously. “ I liked him from 
the first moment I met him in Providence, and the 
good opinion I formed of him has been borne 
out in the most singular way. Even now, you 
see, this unnecessary flight redounds wholly to his 
credit.” 

“ Unnecessary — flight ! ” gasped Doris. 

“ Yes, ma’am. That is why I hurried here. A 
certain person of the feminine gender found me at 
O’Hara’s, and told me such a spiteful yarn of events 
that I thought it best to come here in your victoria, 
and thus make sure of not missing you. Claude 
Waverton will be a very surprised man when he ar- 
rives at the bureau, because my friend Steingall will 
show him a cablegram from the chief of police in 
Mexico City which announces that the half-caste who 
really committed the murder for which Mr. Waver- 
ton was convicted confessed his crime four years ago. 
The authorities did not publish the fact widely, and 
their excuse is that it could do no good, since the 
Claude Waverton concerned was reported to have 
been drowned some years earlier in an English ves- 
sel that was lost with all hands off the coast of Para- 
guay. Now, you must bear up, ma’am ; though good 
news is often as trying as bad news.” 

303 


No Other Way 

But Doris felt that she wanted to cry her heart 
out, and the tears welled forth, strive against them 
as she might. 

So, after all, Mrs. Waverton did not go to New 
York and besiege departmental offices; but she sent 
a telegram, written and rewritten a dozen times be- 
fore it was despatched, and received another shortly 
before midnight next day, the post-office being kept 
open till its arrival. 

Then she hastened to Narragansett Pier, and 
nearly a month elapsed before Waverton wrote from 
64th Street to announce that by payment of much 
money, by the use of powerful influence, and above 
all because of the assistance of Clancy and Steingall, 
he had been allowed to escape prosecution for 
the many and varied offenses he had committed 
when he assumed a dead man’s personality and 
estates. 

At last came the day when the two sisters and 
little Kathleen drove to the railroad station at Nar- 
ragansett Pier, and met the incoming New York ex- 
press. Mrs. Daunt eyed the new Claude Waverton 
with a covert curiosity that soon merged into active 
approval. 

“ I suppose, Doris,” she said late that evening, 
when kissing her sister good-night, 44 I suppose — ” 

Doris flushed a vivid red under Phyllis’s close 
scrutiny. 44 You need not suppose anything,” she 
murmured. 44 The wedding is arranged for next 
month.” 


304 


The “ W averton Case ” Collapses 

66 Good gracious ! ” came the surprised cry. “ You 
have not been long in settling matters. Why, 
you and he have not been alone together more 
than a minute since he arrived. How did you 
manage to reach the point of fixing the date so 
speedily? ” 

“ Oh, that was quite easy. Claude told me that 
Rice had heard, somehow or other, that Tearle had 
married Mrs. Delamar.” 

“ What has that got to do with it? ” 

“ Well, he said that it was the only sort of good 
example they were ever likely to set anybody, so we 
might as well follow it.” 

And that is all which is really of interest in the 
Waverton case. Rice soon recovered from the shock 
of readjusting his ideas as to his master’s identity, 
and when he saw an anchor tattooed on Claude Wa- 
verton’s breast he understood why his services as 
masseur had been dispensed with. 

Oddly enough, it was Steingall who paid for the 
three dinners. He argued the matter long and 
loudly; but Clancy and Forbes wore him down, and 
he paid like a man. 

Clancy chose the menu, which was embellished with 
a spirited drawing of an owl, whose talons held a 
scroll bearing the legend, 44 Some folks are quare, 
they are.” 

For various reasons, the feast did not take place 
until long after the date fixed originally ; but, from 
a remark passed by Forbes when the coffee-and-cigars 
305 


No Other Way 

stage was reached, it was evident that the authorities 
were still keeping an eye on Mrs. Delamar. 

“ Strange thing that she should buy doses of a 
powerful narcotic at various drugstores in New York 
before her visit to Absecon,” he said. 44 What do 
you make of it, you two?” 

44 1 know,” said Steingall. 

“You mean that you can guess,” said Clancy. 

44 No, I know. You may try your hand at guess- 
ing, if you like ; then I shall tell you whether or not 
you are right.” 

44 Well, then, my notion is this : Mrs. Delamar 
bought the various ingredients for her husband in 
the hope and belief that he meant to kill himself. 
She realized that there was a good deal of risk in 
returning to the cottage by night; but she dared 
everything in order to make sure that the man was 
dead. I have an idea, too, that Tearle followed 
her, or was spying on her, and that he knew so much 
that she dare not refuse to marry him when their 
matrimonial schemes collapsed elsewhere.” 

44 Good for you, son! Now, listen to a voice from 
the grave ! ” 

He produced a letter and unfolded it. 

44 This document,” he went on, 44 arrived at the 
bureau from Australia yesterday, and I kept it for 
this evening’s festival. It was addressed to the De- 
tective Bureau, New York, and had been forwarded 
by the writer, Herbert Widlake Kyrle, to an ac- 
quaintance in Sydney, New South Wales, with a 
306 


The “ Waverton Case ” Collapses 

request that it should be posted a month later. Con- 
sequently, it has been ninety-five days on its travels.” 

Then he read: 

To the Chief of the Detective Bureau, New York: 

Sir. — If there is any justification for your repute, my wife, 
Josephine Kyrle, should have been placed on her trial, and 
possibly electrocuted, for my murder before this letter reaches 
you. I really do not care a straw whether or not she has paid 
the penalty of the law, because she murdered my soul long 
ago, and it matters little when or how the body followed its 
predominant partner to extinction. But, even if she is not 
already dead, she certainly must have been exterminated so- 
cially; so I now tell you that I killed myself by drinking a 
solution of crystals of nicotine after I had dulled my senses 
and atrophied my palate by a big dose of bromide and lime- 
juice. 

Hence, my body will be found in my derelict cutter, as the 
weather on this June day seems to be settled, and the yacht 
will drift out with the tide into the track of passing vessels. 
If Josephine still lives, she will have been sufficiently punished; 
so I have made her my sole legatee. On the other hand, if 
she is dead, and there is truly a meeting beyond the grave, I 
shall explain matters fully and amicably; since, in any event, 
we are quits. 

For a little while the three men sat in silence. 
Then Clancy picked up a cigar, cracked the wrap- 
per, and smelt it. 

44 Will you send a copy of that letter to Claude 
G. Waverton?” he asked. 

44 I’ll tell him about it, anyhow.” 

44 What of Mrs. Delamar? ” 

44 1 suppose she ought to know, too.” 

44 It will cheer her and Tearle immensely, because 

307 


No Other Way 

she will realize that she has been bluffed into an un- 
necessary marriage.” 

“ Well, that is the end of the Waverton case,” and 
Steingall blew rings of smoke as he looked up at the 
ceiling. 

But Clancy sighed. To him, the man-hunter, the 
chase was everything and the capture of small ac- 
count. And the Waverton case had certainly pro- 
vided a thrilling chase. 


THE END 


308 






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